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THE   ISLE   OF 
VANISHING    MEN 


THE    ISLE    OF 
VANISHING    MEN 

A  NARRATIVE  OF 
ADVENTURE  IN 
CANNIBAL-LAND 


BY 

W.  F.  ALDER 

ILLUSTRATED  WITH  PHOTOGRAPHS 
BY  THE  AUTHOR 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1922 


Copyright,  1922,  by 
The  Century  Co. 


PRINTKD    IN    V.    B.   A. 


TO 
MY   WIFE 


1138786 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAQB 

I     We    Leave    Ambon 3 

II     The   Paradise-Hunter 13 

III     The     Kampong 32 

IV  The  Assistant  and  the  Nautilus  ...  45 

V     We're    Off! 53 

VI  Shipwrecked   Among   Cannibals    ...  67 

VII  We  Establish  Diplomatic  Relations  .      .  85 

VIII  We  Take  Up  Quarters  in  the  Kampong  .  97 

IX  The  Story  of  the   Swiss  Scientist    .      .116 

X     Our    Consolation    Prize 129 

XI     The     Feast 140 

XII     The    Head    Dance 148 

XIII     A  Kangaroo   Hunt 160 

XIV     The   Bird  of  Paradise 167 

XV  The  Coming  of  the  Burong  Mas  .      .      .  173 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


"Uhumen."     From  their  manner  it  is  evident  that 

we    are    de    trop Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAO£ 

Malays  bringing  on  board  their  varied  possessions  .      16 

As  the  last  of  the  praus  was  cleared  of  baggage  they 

clustered  on  the  gangway,  shouting  adieus  .      .      16 

The  prison-yard  in  Merauke,  New  Guinea  ...      24 

Each  of  the  men  has  perforated  the  septum  of  his 

nose  to  permit  inserting  a  pair  of  boar-tusks  .      33 

A  pair  of  alligator-teeth  make  a  wonderful  nose- 
ornament    33 

Enormous  nose-tubes  of  bamboo  which  entirely  close 
the  nostrils,  making  breathing  possible  only 
through    the   mouth S6 

The  women  wear  in  many  cases  a  tiny  breech-clout 

but   no   other   covering 36 

A  long  platform  which  entirely  encircles  the  kam- 

pong 45 

During  the  day  the  men  occupy  the  sleeping- 
benches,  while  the  women  sit  upon  the  sandy 
floor  of  the   shacks 45 

Seated  at  a  discreet  distance,  watching  our  camp- 
making  intently 80 

There  had  been  a  disagreement  in  the  village   .      .      80 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAai 
Those  who  failed  to  get  a  package  come  to  the  dead- 
line and  asked  for  one 85 

They  may  be  friendly  at  one  moment  ond  turn  upon 

one   the   very    next 85 

We  made  presents  of  tin  jewelry  to  the  natives,  but 

what  they  wanted  was  tobacco 92 

Feathered  head-dresses  moving  through  the  tall 
grass  told  us  of  the  natives  watching  our  prog- 
ress toward  the  kampong 92 

Twice  we  encounter  stalwart  warriors  standing  like 

sentinels,  as  though  disdainful  of  concealment  .      97 

The  body  is  placed  in  a  sitting  position  after  being 

gaily  decorated  for  the  funeral 97 

The  native  climbs  a  cocoanut-palm  in  a  series  of 

humps  and  stretches,  like  a  giant  inch- worm  .    100 

Making  fire.     A  piece  of  hard  wood  is  rotated  by 

hand  while  in  contact  with  a  softer  piece  .       .100 

One  little  fellow  takes  great  delight  in  hearing  his 
mother  describe  the  battles  in  which  his  father 
collected    his    trophies 109 

After  the  heat  of  midday  the  men  gather  in   the 

shade  to  discuss  the  latest  scandal  or  politics  .    109 

Eating  mud!     That's  it,  just  plain  dried  mud  .      .112 

"Little   Playmate"   re-adjusts   his   nose-tubes    .      .112 

The  hairdresser  plaits  long  strands  of  raffia  into  the 

kinky  wool  of  the  Kia  Kias 116 

The   shiny   inner   surface   of   a    Malay   tobacco-box 

serves  tiiem  as  a  mirror 116 

The  deserted  Jesuit  mission  which  formerly  was  the 

pride  and  hope  of  its  unfortunate  builder   .       .125 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PA6B 

In  the  early  evening  the  women  sit  around  on  the 

copra-drying-platforms  and  watch  the  sunset  .    125 

They  are  very  proud  of  the  scar-patterns  .      .      .129 

The  weals  caused  by  the  infection  of  the  cuts  some- 
times stand  out  nearly  an  inch  from  the  sur- 
rounding    flesh 129 

The  men  occupy  their  time  with  revision  of  their 

toilets,  rather  than  in  doing  the  chores  .      ,      .133 

Sarah 133 

The  kapala  kampong  presents  us  with  human  skulls, 

the  highest  token  of  their  esteem       .       .       .       .136 

A  young  and  very  fearsome  Kia  Kia  spends  a  great 

deal  of  his  time   with  her 136 

The  circle  breaks  up  and  a  dance  takes  place  for  our 

entertainment 140 

They  sang  for  us  at  the  top  of  their  leather  lungs  .    140 

Long  into  the  night  the  mad  festival  continues. 
To  exert  themselves  in  any  productive  occupa- 
tion to  a  like  extent  would  kill  them   .       .       .144 

The  drums  are  tuned  in  a  peculiar  manner.  Having 
no  strings  fastened  to  the  heads  with  which  to 
tighten  them,  they  place  small  lumps  of  resin 
mixed  with  clay  on  the  heads  to  produce  the 
desired     sound 144 

The  Head  Dance.  Two  girls  begin  it  by  slowly 
walking  up  and  down  in  the  center  of  the  circle 
of  onlookers 148 

The  Dutch  officials  punish  them  severely  for  indulg- 
ing in  these  practices 148 

Under  the  influence  of  the  wady,  exhilarated  by  the 

wild  dance,  the  men  finally  take  part  .      .      .157 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

They  again  threaten  the  men  with  total  exclusion 

from  all  intercourse  with  their  families    .      .157 

This  man  confessed  to  having  eaten  many  human 
beings.  To  accurately  estimate  the  number  was 
beyond  his  power  of  reckoning 161 

The   sharp-edged   stone   war-club   in   the   hands   of 

such  men  as  these  makes  quick  work  of  a  victim   161 

The  skipper  is  a  jolly  fellow  with  a  countenance 
that  beams  good  nature,  mixed  with  a  shrewd- 
ness that  speaks  of  business  ability    .      .      .176 

He  beats  a  gong  briskly  and  chants  a  prayer  in 
Malay,  while  the  rest  of  the  crew  add  their 
prayers  to  his  petitions 176 


THE    ISLE    OF   VANISHING  MEN 


THE   ISLE  OF 
VANISHING   MEN 

CHAPTER  I 

We   Leave   Ambon 

TWO  bells  tinkles  within  the  master's  cabin, 
and  the  quartermaster  on  the  bridge  re- 
peats the  annomicement  of  nine  o'clock  with  two 
strokes  upon  the  bronze  bell  near  his  station  at 
the  wheel.  It  is  sailing-time.  The  townspeople 
have  turned  out  en  masse  to  bid  us  farewell,  and 
the  open  spaces  on  the  new  concrete  wharf  are 
ablaze  with  color.  The  chatter  of  a  thousand 
voices  comes  to  us  as  we  stand  upon  the  deck 
looking  down  on  the  scene.  Every  one  seems 
happy.  The  great  whistle  on  the  ship's  funnel, 
after  a  preliminary  garghng  of  its  throat,  shat- 
ters the  tranquil  air  with  a  peremptory  warning. 
The  screw  churns  up  a  maelstrom  beneath  the 
overhanging  stern,  and  we  swing  out  into  the 
channel  amid  a  storm  of  adieus  spoken  in  a 


4       THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

dozen  tongues.  We  are  off  for  the  land  of  the 
cannibal  Kia  Kias, — the  Isle  of  Vanishing  Men. 

As  the  ship  gathers  way,  Aniboina,  spice- 
scented  "Ambon,"  drops  into  the  mists  of  the 
morning  and  we  look  around  the  deck  fo?  com- 
pany. We  are  alone.  Then  we  remember  the 
information  given  us  by  the  First  Officer  yester- 
day. We  are  the  only  first-cabin  passengers  on 
board,  this  trip.  Few  people  find  their  way  to 
the  Isle  of  Vanishing  Men.  It  offers  little  to 
the  business  man.  The  commercial  traveler 
never  goes  there.  JVIerauke,  our  destination,  has 
but  five  white  inhabitants,  and  their  wants  are 
few.  One  steamer  a  month  carries  to  them  the 
things  they  need  and  the  mail  from  home. 

We  shall  spend  our  time  for  the  next  few  days 
in  lazy  languor,  playing  an  occasional  game  of 
chess  with  the  chief  engineer,  chatting  now  and 
then  with  the  very  amiable  captain,  or,  as  one 
learns  to  do  in  the  Indies,  just  draping  ourselves 
over  most  comfortable  steamer  chairs  and  day- 
dreaming for  hours  on  end.  The  air  is  like  silk. 
The  piping  falsetto  of  the  deck-hands  as  they 
sing  at  their  work  lulls  one  into  reverie,  and  life 


WE  LEAVE  AMBON  5 

glides  by  with  a  smoothness  that  takes  no  count 
of  time. 

There  comes  the  day  when  the  captain  greets 
us  at  breakfast  with  the  news  that  we  shall 
arrive  this  evening.  As  he  selects  from  the 
heaped  platter  of  sliced  sausage  his  favorite 
variety  he  tells  us  that  we  shall  sight  land  at  one 
this  afternoon.  We  are  agog  with  excitement. 
The  cannibals  are  not  far  away  now.  We  ply 
him  with  questions  and  as  he  spreads  his  bread 
with  marmalade  he  tells  us  of  the  Kia  Kias  and 
what  their  name  means.  To  be  kikied,  he  avers, 
is  to  be  eaten;  the  natives  are  eaters  of  men; 
hence  the  name. 

He  regales  us  with  reminiscences  of  his 
former  visits  to  the  island  and  roars  with  mer- 
riment as  he  relates  how  on  one  voyage  a  few 
months  ago  he  was  accompanied  by  his  wife. 
The  natives  thronged  the  little  wharf,  clad  in 
their  birthday  suits,  to  witness  the  arrival  of  the 
ship.  Some  of  them  were  allowed  on  board, 
where  they  were  awed  by  the  marvels  of  the 
white  man's  great  proa.     The  captain's  wife  was 


6       THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

the  first  white  woman  they  had  ever  seen,  and 
one  of  the  natives — a  son  of  a  chief,  by  the 
way, — became  enamored  of  her.  He  imme- 
diately offered  the  captain  two  fine  pigs  for  her. 
The  captain  refused  the  ojffer,  saying  it  was  not 
enough.  The  man  withdrew,  his  brow  wrinkled 
with  deep  thought.  He  left  the  ship  and  was 
lost  in  the  throng  that  strained  the  under- 
pinning of  the  little  wharf.  Two  liours  later  he 
returned,  accompanied  by  several  of  his  friends. 
Each  of  these  carried  a  pig  trussed  up  with 
rattan  hobbles.  He  had  sold  his  wife  and  three 
daughters  for  five  pigs  and  was  raising  his  ante, 
so  the  captain's  story  ran,  and  was  much  put  out 
when  he  learned  that  the  price  offered  was  still 
inadequate. 

The  lady  in  question  was  the  object  of  so 
much  attention  from  the  well-meaning  if  some- 
what amorous  natives  tliat  she  found  it  expe- 
dient to  retire  to  the  privacy  of  her  husband's 
cabin,  whence  she  was  able  unseen  to  observe 
the  visitors. 

The  little  saloon  in  which  we  breakfast  over- 


WE  LEAVE  AMBON  7 

looks  the  main  deck  and  the  men  there  are  mak- 
ing ready  the  winches  and  rigging  preparatory 
to  the  unloading  of  cargo  manifested  for 
Merauke.  Their  work  interrupts  the  captain 
in  his  narrative,  for  the  rumbling  remonstrances 
of  the  rusty  machines  make  the  morning  hid- 
eous. We  hasten  to  the  upper  deck,  where 
after  doing  our  customary  half-mile  constitu- 
tional we  busy  ourselves  with  the  packing  of  our 
dunnage. 

This  will  take  us  an  hour  and  we  look  forward 
to  a  comfortable  snooze  before  tiffin.  By  that 
time,  or  shortly  after,  the  coast-line  of  New 
Guinea  will  have  risen  to  view  out  of  a  murky 
horizon  in  the  northeast.  There  is  nothing  to 
do  until  then.  Our  letters  to  those  at  home  will 
not  be  written  until  the  very  last  moment  before 
the  steamer  sails,  for  we  shall  want  to  describe 
Merauke  in  them.  It  will  be  two  months  before 
the  steamer  calls  again.  In  those  two  months 
v/e  shall  have  visited  the  tribes  living  far  from 
the  little  trading-station  of  Merauke  and  its  very 
friendly  population  of  five  whites,  many  Chi- 


8       THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

nese,  a  few  Malays,  and  a  hundred  or  so  Kia 
Kias.  The  missionaries  have  brought  these  last 
from  the  interior  and  they  live  outside  the  town 
in  kampongs  or  villages,  the  nearest  of  which  is 
an  hour's  walk  from  the  dock. 

The  chief  engineer — who,  by  the  way,  is  a  real 
character  and  something  of  a  philosopher — dis- 
arranges our  plans  for  forty  winks.  He  has 
spent  about  forty-three  years  on  the  ships  that 
ply  the  waters  of  the  Indies,  and  has  many  tales 
to  tell;  for  he  loves  to  rehve  his  earlier  days, 
when  the  native  girls  were  more  beautiful  to  him 
than  now.  With  the  onmarch  of  years  the  en- 
erv^ating  climate  and  the  demoralizing  life  of  the 
kampongs  have  exacted  a  toll,  and  the  over- 
drafts he  made  in  those  never-to-be-forgotten 
times  have  been  collected  in  full  by  the  Bank  of 
Nature. 

The  old  roue  boasts  of  his  conquests  among 
the  golden-skinned  vahines  of  the  Southern 
Islands  and  tells  us  now  with  shocking  candor 
of  the  doubtful  virtues  of  Nasia,  an  old  flame 
of  his  who  lived  in  Ambon.     He  sees  her  now 


WE  LEAVE  AMBON  9 

and  then  in  Saparoea,  where  she  is  the  reputa- 
ble wife  of  a  half-caste  government  employee. 
To  the  native,  marriage  means  that  respectable 
status  which  permits  of  clandestine  meetings 
with  the  wife,  censured  only  by  the  husband. 
All  others  aid  and  abet  the  liaison,  for  does  it 
not  furnish  delightful  gossip  in  an  otherwise 
somnolent  community?  He  tells  of  a  night 
when  he  and  his  chief  (he  was  second  engineer 
then)  went  in  company  with  some  others  to  a 
kampong  back  of  Dobo  in  the  Arus  and  pro- 
ceeded to  kiss  all  the  girls  in  sight.  The  girls 
must  have  taken  kindly  to  the  demonstration, 
for  they  unearthed  "square-face"  gin  in  plenty 
and  with  dances  and  what  not  regaled  the  w'hite 
Tuans  (masters)  until  the  east  turned  from 
violet  to  rose. 

We  cannot  find  it  in  our  hearts  to  censure  the 
chief,  for  the  "custom  of  the  country"  has  made 
its  insidious  way  deep  into  his  soul  and  has 
warped  his  point  of  view.  One  has  to  spend 
mudh  time  in  the  Indies  fully  to  appreciate  how 
this   can   be.     Here   life   is    stripped   of  many 


10      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

superfluities  and  conventions  and  love  of  life 
and  of  love  become  paramount  factors.  He 
shakes  his  head  at  what  he  calls  our  "Long 
Hair"  ideas  and  tells  us  we  should  have  brought 
with  us  two  girls  from  Ambon,  to  keep  house  for 
us  while  we  are  in  New  Guinea.  The  Ambonese 
girls,  he  tells  us,  are  much  more  comely  than  the 
Kia  Kia  girls. 

"Wait  till  you  see  Reache's  girl  in  Merauke," 
he  says;  "or  the  Controlleur's  up  the  coast, — 
Nona  is  her  name.  She  came  from  Ambon. 
She  is  nineteen  and  as  saucy  a  httle  trinket  as 
you  'd  ever  want  to  see."  Thereupon  the  chief 
laughs  immoderately. 

Seeking  further  information  on  the  subject, 
we  question  him  regarding  certain  eventualities 
had  we  made  "temporary"  matrimonial  ar- 
rangements such  as  he  recommends,  and  he 
waves  a  deprecating  hand  at  us. 

"Don't  worry  about  that,"  he  says.  "WTien 
you  get  ready  to  leave  'em  give  'em  a  new  sarong, 
a  little  money,  a  ticket  home,  and  they'll  bless 
vou    forever  and   mavbe   crv   a   little   into   the 


WE  LEAVE  AMBON  11 

bargain  because  they  hate  to  lose  a  good 
thing.  In  a  week  or  two,  though,  they  will  be 
deep  in  a  new  affair  and  they  '11  forget.  Don't 
let  them  fall  in  love,  though,  or  they  might  get 
nasty.  Best  way  is  to  tell  'em  you  're  going 
about  ten  minutes  before  you  leave.  It  saves  a 
lot  of  powwow  an'  palaver.  Otherwise  it  '11 
cost  you  twice  as  much  to  save  your  face." 

The  chiming  of  eight  bells  closes  the  engi- 
neer's dissertation,  as  he  stands  watch  until  four 
in  the  afternoon.  He  leaves  us  reluctantly,  for 
he  regards  us  as  babes  in  the  woods  who  need 
much  assistance  and  advice  in  this  very  interest- 
ing but  usually  taboo  subject.  Mayhap  he  is 
right,  but,  as  the  Englishman  says,  "We  '11 
muddle  through  somehow."  Somehow  we  can't 
quite  divest  ourselves  of  our  "old-fashioned" 
ideas. 

While  we  talk  over  the  chief's  code  of  morals, 
we  wonder  about  many  things.  The  sort  of  life 
he  has  led  has  been  led  by  many  white  men,  for 
four  hundred  years,  in  the  Indies  and  every  one 
seems  happy  and  contented.     True,  there  are 


12      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

many  brown-skinned  people  with  blue  eyes  and 
just  as  many  fair-skinned  ones  with  warm,  danc- 
ing eyes  of  sloe  black,  but  on  the  lips  of  each  and 
every  one  of  these  there  is  a  smile.  They  seem 
to  know  no  trouble.  The  warm  air  makes  us 
drowsy.  Tiffin  is  n't  till  one-thirty :  why  not 
take  that  snooze  we  planned  for? 


CHAPTER  II 

The  Paradise-Hunter 

IT  is  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  ship's 
launch  is  wallowing  toward  the  wharf,  car- 
rying with  it  ourselves  and  two  of  the  ship's 
officers.  Moh — our  Javanese  boy,  cook,  major- 
domo,  and  general  nuisance — is  busily  engaged 
in  gathering  our  barang  together,  preparatory 
to  getting  it  ashore.  No  one  ever  thinks  of  call- 
ing baggage  anything  but  "barang"  after  a  few 
months  in  JNIalay  waters.  We  just  must  show 
our  command  of  the  vernacular  and  thereby  es- 
cape classification  as  common  tourists. 

As  we  near  the  wharf  a  motley  crowd  greets 
us  with  a  variety  of  expressions.  The  throng 
is  composed  for  the  most  part  of  Malay-speak- 
ing Javanese  or  Ambonese,  but  here  and  there 
one  sees  pa  jama-clad  Chinese  and  over  there 
near  the  godown,  or  warehouse,  is  the  white-clad 

13 


14     THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

figure  of  a  white  man.  He  is  approaching  us 
rapidly.  We  scramble  up  the  rickety,  slippery 
stairway  to  the  dock  and  find  ourselves  in  a 
chattering  gang  who  clamor  to  be  allowed  to 
carry  our  barang  to  the  passangrahan  or  rest- 
house,  which  in  these  Dutch  possessions  is-  the 
only  shelter  available  to  the  stranger.  It  is  main- 
tained by  the  Government  for  this  purpose  and 
in  it  one  finds  every  convenience,  but  one  must 
supply  one's  own  servants  and  food. 

We  arrange  with  a  Chinaman,  who  seems  to 
be  a  sort  of  "straw  boss"  of  the  coolies,  for  the 
transfer  of  our  luggage,  and  dismiss  the  matter 
from  our  minds.  He  will  care  for  it  and  will 
not  worry  us,  for  the  whole  bill  will  not  be  over 
two  guilders,  or  about  sixty  cents.  There  are 
twenty-two  pieces  to  be  moved.  If  we  cared  to 
argue  the  matter  out  we  might  get  the  job  done 
for  one  guilder,  but  it's  too  warm  for  an  argu- 
ment. 

The  white-clad  figure  is  close  to  us  now.  He 
evidently  is  worried  about  the  arrival  of  some- 
thing or  other  that  he  expects  the  boat  to  bring 


THE  PARADISE-HUNTER         15 

him.  He  does  not  notice  us,  but  goes  directly  to 
the  ship's  officer  who  is  giving  orders  to  the  men 
Hghtering  the  cargo  ashore.  They  engage  in  an 
animated  but  good-natured  conversation.  Far- 
ther down  the  dock  a  scuffle  is  taking  place.  The 
crowd  thins  out  rapidly,  and  we  can  glimpse 
the  combatants  now  and  then  between  the  inter- 
vening onlookers.  They  are  slashing  at  each 
other  with  knives  and  whole-souled  abandon. 
They  are  Malay  stevedores.  From  the  lower 
end  of  the  mole  a  grotesque  native  policeman 
espies  the  affray  and  shouts  to  the  battlers  to 
desist, — this  with  wild  waving  of  his  arms  and 
dire  threats  of  punishment.  His  shrill  admon- 
itions do  not  seem  to  have  the  desired  effect,  and 
he  suddenly  projects  himself  (that  is  the  only 
word  for  it)  in  the  general  direction  of  the  melee. 
His  old  navy  cutlass  flashes  in  the  waning  sun- 
light as  he  draws  it  with  a  great  flourish  and 
comes  bouncing  down  the  wharf.  The  scabbard 
disconcertingly  inserts  itself  between  his  legs  and 
he  performs  an  absurd  contortion  to  regain  his 
footing.     By  miraculous  intervention  of  Prov- 


16      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHIXG  MEN 

idence  he  maintains  his  footing  and  arrives. 
Smack!  smack!  and  the  beUigerents  depart  in 
opposite  directions.  The  pohceman's  cutlass 
has  accomphshed  its  purpose.  The  fighters 
have  been  spanked  into  peace  with  the  flat  of 
the  blade. 

As  the  pair  separate  a  gentle  voice  beside  us 
is  raised  in  soft-toned  remonstrance.  It  is  di- 
rected toward  the  misguided  policeman.  "Gad, 
man!"  it  says,  "don't  stop  'em;  let  'em  fight." 
Then  turning  to  us,  the  speaker  continues,  "I 
just  love  to  see  the  blood  fly."  Our  jaws  drop. 
We  turn  to  scan  the  ferocious  one  and  look  him 
over  in  amazement.  Before  us  is  a  little  man 
of  somewhat  uncertain  age,  cladly  largely  in  a 
huge  Vandyke  that  rambles  in  a  casual  fashion 
over  his  face.  His  voice  is  soft,  soft  as  a  girl's, 
and  his  eyes  as  we  look  into  them  lose  their  blood- 
thirsty, anticipatory  glint,  and  sparkle  with 
kindliness  and  good-fellowship. 

He  extends  his  hand,  a  hand  wi'inkled  and 
seamed  like  a  last-year's  apple  and  brown  as  a 
claro  from  Sumatra.     "My  moniker's  Reache," 


Malays  bringing  on  board  their  varied  possessions 


As  the  last  oi  tlie  praus  was  cleared  uf  baggage  they  clustered  ou 
the  gangway,  shouting  adieus 


THE  PARADISE-HUNTER  17 

he  tells  us,  and  we  tell  him  our  names.  He  con- 
tinues: "You  are  Americans,  eh?  Well,  put  'er 
there!  I  like  the  way  you  fellows  handled  the 
railroad  situation  in  France.  Here  for  long? 
Wait:  stay  here  a  moment  while  I  see  the  mate 
there,  and  I'll  take  you  over  to  the  club  for  a 
drink.  We'll  spin  a  yarn  and  get  acquainted. 
Can't  spin  a  yarn  or  get  chummy  sudden,  'less 
there's  some  square-face  in  sight;  that's  solid. 
Back  in  a  minute." 

As  we  watch  him  go  we  smile.  So  there  is  a 
club  in  JNIerauke!  Five  white  men, — and  a  club! 
It  is  proper.  Where  there  is  a  club  there  must 
be  a  bar.  The  barkeeper  draws  a  salary,  after 
a  fashion.  He  must  be  kept  awake  to  lend  an 
air  of  liveliness  to  the  institution,  so  the  members 
foregather  of  an  evening  and  sing  raucously  in 
the  wee  sma'  hours  expressly  for  that  purpose. 
True,  the  club  is  but  a  palm-thatched  edifice 
with  a  slightly  corrugated  floor  and  reputation; 
nevertheless  it  is  a  club.  Nondescript  furniture 
ungraces  its  airj^  spaciousness  and  mud-wasps' 
nests  now  and  then  fall  upon  one's  head  as  some 


18      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

fly-hungry  chick  chack  lizard  carelessly  dislodges 
them,  but  it  is  still  "The  Club."  It  being  "The 
Club,"  one  must  always  remember  to  wear  his 
coat  therein,  for  the  etiquette  of  fleshpots  is 
brought  to  this  land  of  the  stewpots  and  observed 
with  due  reverence.  No  matter  how  deep  in 
his  cups  the  superior  white  man  may  be,  he  must 
never  appear  at  "The  Club"  in  negligee.  It 
is  n't  done. 

The  native  may  wander  in  the  simmering  heat 
of  midday  clad  in  what  approximates  nothing, 
but  the  Tuan,  being  superior  even  when  most 
satisfyingly  inebriated,  to  maintain  his  proper 
dignity  must  wear  at  all  times  a  coat  over  his 
regulation  soft-collared  shirt.  Of  course  we 
Americans  are  not  really  bound  to  do  this,  for 
our  many  eccentricities  are  passed  over  without 
undue  comment.  When  one  of  those  who  really 
"belong"  does  make  some  allusion  to  one  of 
our — what  shall  I  say? — indecorums,  one  of  his 
fellows  offers  the  all-sufficient  excuse  or  explana- 
tion, "Oh,  he's  American."  This  always  suf- 
fices; and,  too,  it  is  said  as  though  the  speaker 


THE  PARADISE-HUNTER         19 

expected  as  much  and  would  have  been  disap- 
pointed otherwise.  And  despite  all  this  they 
like  us.  They  really  like  our  devil-may-care 
expediency,  and  I  think  secretly  envy  us.  In 
this  they  "have  nothing  on  us,"  though,  for  it 
seems  to  be  a  human  tendency  to  envy  something 
in  the  other  fellow. 

Reache  joins  us  in  a  few  moments,  and  we  are 
soon  ensconced  in  rather  rickety  chairs  on  the 
veranda  of  the  club.  Between  tumblerfuls  of 
square-face  gin  and  long  draws  at  an  excellent 
Dutch  cigar,  he  entertains  us  with  tales  of  bird- 
of-paradise  hunting,  which  avocation  he  follows 
somewhat  successfully.  He  now  and  then  makes 
our  flesh  creep  with  a  particularly  hair-raising 
recital  delivered  somewhat  in  this  fashion: 

"You  fellows  know,  I  guess,  what  I  'm  here 
for.  It 's  paradise.  Not  the  country,  no!  The 
country  is  hell  and  no  mistake,  but  the  birds, — 
that  is  what  I  go  after,  and  get,  too.  I  outfitted 
in  Moresby  and  when  I  got  my  hunters  together 
and  plenty  of  petrol  for  the  launch  I  headed  for 
the  upper  Diegul.     It 's  way  up  in  the  interior 


20      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

where  we  get  the  best  birds.  It 's  bad  country 
up  there,  and  no  mistake,  for  the  natives  have 
a  little  habit  of  lunching  off  one  another  when 
pig  becomes  scarce.  The  governor  warned  me 
that  I  was  taking  my  life  in  my  hands,  but  I 
don  't  know  any  one  else's  hands  I  'd  rather  have 
it  in,  so  I  wxnt  inside.  INIy  crew  of  hunters  was 
as  ripe  a  gang  of  cutthroats  as  one  would  wish 
to  see  and  they  tried  cutting  a  few  didoes  among 
themselves,  but  after  I  'd  knocked  a  couple  of 
them  cold  they  took  to  behaving  and  I  let  things 
go  at  that. 

"You  want  a  gang  like  that  for  hard  going. 
They  're  necessary.  The  only  w^ay  to  keep  them 
happy  is  to  give  them  plenty  of  work  or,  what 
they  like  best,  plenty  of  scrapping.  Then  they 
have  n't  time  to  brood  over  differences  of  opin- 
ion amongst  themselves.  I  loaded  a  couple  of 
bushels  of  shells  like  that  nigger  out  there  has  on. 
They  wear  them  for  pants.  One  shell  and  Mr. 
Cannibal  is  all  dressed  up.  Well,  I  use  those 
shells  for  currency.  One  first-class  sliell  which 
costs  me  about  ten  cents  Dutch  money  buys  a 


THE  PARADISE-HUNTER         21 

bird-of-paradise  skin  that  is  worth  twelve  hun- 
dred guilders  a  cody, — that  is,  twenty  skins, — 
or,  as  it  figures  out  in  real  money,  forty  dollars 
a  skin.  It 's  a  fair  margin  of  profit."  Here 
Reache  grins  and  absorbs  another  tumblerful  of 
square-face. 

"Well,"  he  continues,  "we  went  inside, — I, 
seven  shooters,  and  some  other  Moresby  boys  for 
packers.  Soon  we  had  all  the  shooting  and  trad- 
ing we  wanted.  Everything  went  all  right  for 
a  time  and  there  was  no  trouble  with  the  natives. 
I  gave  them  one  nice  shiny  shell  for  one  prime 
skin  and  they  were  as  pleased  as  possible.  The 
trouble  started  over  some  fool  thing  that  one  of 
my  boys  said  or  did  to  one  of  the  native  women 
and  soon  matters  began  to  tense  up  a  little. 
There  was  a  Chinese  outfit  inside,  too,  that  were 
doing  some  trading  and  they  tried  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  natives.  They  gummed  the  game 
that  season.  The  natives  stood  for  the  China- 
men for  a  time,  but  pretty  soon  the  old  women  of 
the  tribe  called  all  the  younger  women  and  girls 
aside  and  told  them  that  the  men  were  taboo  till 


22      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

the  Chinamen  were  put  out  of  the  way,  and  as 
usual  the  younger  ones  agreed  to  what  the  old 
women  said.  (They  always  have  their  way.) 
One  fine  evening  the  Kia  Kias  had  a  little 
dinner-party  to  celebrate  the  resumption  of 
domestic  felicity  attendant  upon  the  demise  of 
the  Chinese. 

"The  Chinamen  were  the  guests  of  honor. 
They  had  been  roasted  to  a  turn.  Next  day  I 
visited  the  place  and  when  I  saw  the  kampong 
clearing  I  knew  what  had  happened.  This  piece 
of  jade  was  the  only  thing  left  of  the  Chinamen 
that  I  could  see.  The  rest  was  eaten.  I  took 
this  fr6m  one  of  the  children,  who  was  playing 
with  it.  INIy  gang  were  pretty  sore  about  it. 
I  don't  think  it  was  on  account  of  the  Chinese, 
particularly,  but  because  they  had  missed  a  good 
scrap,  and  they  began  to  grouch.  The  next  day 
one  of  the  natives  came  to  the  launch  with  a 
couple  of  skins.  Ula  was  working  on  the  en- 
gine. The  rest  of  my  gang  were  all  away  in 
the  jungle,  shooting.  The  skins  were  a  little 
ruffled  up,  but  I  think  what  made  Ula  angry 


THE  PARADISE-HUNTER         23 

was  the  fact  that  the  native  had  on  a  pair  of 
Chinese  trousers. 

He  never  collected  for  the  skins,  for  Ula 
picked  up  a  spanner  that  he  'd  been  working  on 
the  engine  with  and  tapped  him  with  it.  Then 
he  tossed  him  into  the  kalee  alongside  to  drift 
down  the  stream  for  the  crocodiles  to  dine  on. 

"The  other  natives  all  cleared  out  and  that 
night  we  heard  them  singing  and  beating  drums 
in  the  jungle  near  their  kampong.  There  was 
trouble  in  the  air.  ]My  boys  began  to  rifle  the 
barang  for  some  heavier  shells  and  a  couple  of 
them  built  a  big  fire  in  the  center  of  our  clearing. 
About  ten  in  the  evening  one  of  them  had 
walked  out  across  the  circle  of  the  firelight  to 
throw  on  some  more  wood,  when  he  stopped, 
straightened  up,  and  then  collapsed  in  a  heap. 

"I  jumped  for  my  gun.  A  Kia  Kia  ten-foot 
spear  had  finished  him.  A  minute  later  hell 
broke  loose.  The  natives  did  a  queer  thing  for 
them.  They  rushed  us.  Man,  it  was  a  beauti- 
ful fight!  There  was  a  sick  sort  of  a  moon  try- 
ing to  see  what  was  going  on  and  the  fire  gave  us 


24      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

a  little  light,  so  we  just  lined  up  along  the  bank 
of  the  kalee  and  let  them  come.  Ula  was  a  bird 
of  a  fighter.  I  've  never  seen  more  methodical 
slaughter.  He  and  I  were  lying  a  little  apart 
from  the  rest  and  as  each  bunch  of  howling 
painted  devils  came  for  us  across  the  clearing 
we  would  let  them  have  it. 

"They  shot  clouds  of  arrows  at  us,  but  as  we 
were  lying  down  in  the  tall  grass  they  all  went 
high,  though  some  of  them  whizzed  by  uncom- 
fortably close.  When  they  ran  out  of  arrows 
they  came  at  us  with  stone-headed  clubs  and  we  'd 
let  them  have  what  was  in  our  twelve-gages  at 
thirty  feet.  It  was  hang!  hang!  hang!  along 
the  bank  of  that  kalee,  like  a  clay-pigeon  trap 
match. 

"Before  long  I  noticed  that  things  were  pretty 
quiet  over  to  my  left  where  the  rest  of  my  boys 
were,  and  I  rose  up  to  look.  As  I  did  so  I  heard 
Ula  grunt,  "Look  out!"  and  I  swung  around 
just  in  time  to  stop  a  burly  Kia  Kia  who  was 
planning  to  do  me  with  a  stone  club  that  would 
liave  killed  an  elephant.     Then  LTla  went  down. 


a 


THE  PARADISE-HUNTER         25 

They  were  coming  at  me  from  both  sides,  for  I 
could  see  the  grass  moving  slowly  where  they 
were  sneaking  up  on  me.  I  reached  into  my 
pocket  to  get  some  more  shells  and  got  the  shock 
of  my  life.  I  had  shot  my  last  one.  My  gun 
was  empty.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  get 
away,  and  I  turned  toward  the  spot  on  the  bank 
where  the  launch  was  tied.  I  had  taken  maybe 
a  dozen  steps  toward  it  when  I  heard  a  couple  of 
plumps  from  the  engine  and  then  she  caught  on 
and  got  to  hitting  regular. 

"I  rose  up  from  the  shelter  of  the  tapa  grass 
and  made  time  toward  the  sound.  Ammed,  the 
only  one  of  the  boys  left,  had  started  the  kicker 
and  was  pulling  out.  He  saved  my  bacon  that 
night.  We  did  n't  waste  any  time  in  getting 
down  the  river, — just  kept  going." 

Reache  turns  and  shakes  his  head.  While  his 
hand  gropes  for  the  bottle  of  square-face  he  sighs 
and  concludes,  "I  lost  some  fine  guns  that  night." 
We  look  at  each  other  in  speculation.  The  story 
sounds  all  right,  but —  "Ah,  here  he  comes !"  ex- 
claims Reache.     "Here  comes  the  Controlleur." 


26      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

Reache  rises  and  goes  to  the  railing  of  the  ve- 
randa and  calls  to  a  brown-skinned,  black  mus- 
tached,  militaiy-looking  fellow.  After  a  mo- 
ment's conversation  the  Controllem*  comes  in 
with  Reache,  greets  us  cordially,  and  tells  us 
that  he  has  the  passangrahan  ready  for  us. 

The  Resident  in  Ambon  has  sent  a  letter  by 
our  steamer,  telhng  of  our  coming,  and  has 
ordered  things  done  for  us.  It  is  the  way  these 
kindly  Dutch  officials  always  treat  the  visitor. 
The  Controlleur  informs  us — much  to  his  em- 
barrassment, however — ^that  there  is  a  govern- 
ment charge  of  what  equals  thirty-four  cents  a 
day  for  our  accommodation.  Much  as  he  regrets 
it,  he  says,  there  are  no  exceptions  to  this  rule. 
We  drown  his  embarrassment  with  a  liberal 
libation  of  Reache's  square-face  and,  escorted  by 
both  of  our  new  friends,  go  to  inspect  our  quar- 
ters. We  shall  be  here  in  INlerauke  several  days 
before  proceeding  up  the  coast,  so  we  must  be 
very  comfortable,  they  say. 

As  we  near  the  passangrahan  we  take  note  of  a 
group  of  sheet-iron  buildings  surrounded  by  a 


THE  PARADISE-HUNTER         27 

high  wh*e  fence.  It  is  the  jail  and  watching  us 
intently  are  a  score  of  prisoners.  As  we  look 
in  their  direction  they  break  into  smiles  and  call 
to  us  in  Malay.  They  are  asking  us  to  secure 
them  for  additional  servants  during  our  stay 
and,  noting  our  surprise  at  this,  the  ControUeur 
assures  us  that  he  will  loan  us  all  the  help  we 
want.  Later  he  makes  good  his  word,  for  he 
sends  several  of  the  prisoners  over  to  the  rest- 
house  where  we  have  taken  up  our  abode.  They 
are  accompanied  by  a  native  sergeant,  who  sits 
in  the  shade  all  day,  smoking.  He  never  bothers 
about  what  the  prisoners  are  doing  and  they 
dutifully  report  to  him  at  meal-times.  In  the 
evening,  when  their  house-cleaning  and  grass- 
cutting  are  over,  they  line  up  and  return  to  the 
jail.  We  even  send  them  on  errands,  which 
they  do  conscientiously  but  not  at  all  hastily. 

The  ControUeur  and  Reache  leave  us — to  get 
our  things  straightened  out,  they  say — and 
promise  to  call  again  to-morrow.  They  also  say 
that  we  must  meet  the  other  Europeans  who 
are  connected  with  the  little  trading-company. 


28      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

We  shall  not  be  able  to  see  the  Assistant  Resi- 
dent on  business  until  the  steamer  sails,  we  are 
informed,  for  he  has  many  reports  to  forward  to 
his  chief  in  Ambon.  These  are  always  made  up 
at  the  last  moment  and  the  rush  is  terrible.  The 
assistant  is  even  now  writing  the  first  of  the  two. 
One  of  them  is  to  tell  the  chief  that  jMerauke  is 
still  in  New  Guinea,  and  the  other  that  we  have 
arrived  and  are  being  well  cared  for.  He  must 
rest  from  this  labor  for  a  day ;  then  he  will  receive 
us  with  the  formality  due  the  distinguished  guest. 
He  will  inquire  with  solicitous  concern  as  to  our 
health,  and  what  we  most  desire  to  do,  and  will 
grant  our  every  wish,  after  due  deliberation. 
Things  of  such  weighty  nature  as  our  coming  on 
a  little  friendly  visit  must  be  treated  with  pains- 
taking consideration.  It  is  too  warm  to  decide 
too  much  in  one  day,  for  then  judgment  might 
be  erroneous,  and — oh,  well!  why  talk  business 
when  there  is  so  much  else  to  talk  about?  There 
has  n't  been  a  stranger  in  Merauke  for  months, 
and  we  can't  blame  them,  can  we?  No!  We 
shall  let  the  purpose  of  our  coming  go  hang,  and 


THE  PARADISE-HUNTER  29 

just  sit  down  and  be  entertained  for  the  best  part 
of  a  week.  They  will  enjoy  it  almost  as  much 
as  we,  so  why  not? 

At  the  passangrahan  we  find  that  Moh  has  din- 
ner ready.  He  shows  us  where  the  bath-house 
is  and  we  go  there  and  revel  in  the  cool  splashing 
of  the  water  upon  our  perspiring  bodies.  The 
mode  of  bathing,  here,  is  new  to  us,  but  we  feel 
we  shall  come  to  like  it.  The  bath-house  is 
exactly  like  all  others  found  throughout  the 
Dutch  East  Indies.  It  is  placed  right  along- 
side the  cook-house,  which  is  detached  from  the 
main  bungalow,  that  the  heat  and  smell  of  cook- 
ing may  not  invade  the  domain  of  the  Tuan. 

Within  the  palm-thatched  room  are  several 
great  jars  of  rain-water,  a  wooden  grid  to  stand 
upon,  and  a  tin  dipper  of  gallon  size.  One 
drenches  himself  from  head  to  foot,  lathers  thor- 
oughly, then  sluices  down  with  more  gallons  and 
the  bath  is  complete.  It  is  quick,  easy,  and  ex- 
hilarating. We  are  told  not  to  try  it  much  after 
nightfall,  however,  unless  we  wish  to  be  eaten 
alive.     There  are  cannibalistic  mosquitos   here 


30      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

that  will  charge  en  masse,  drive  in  their  lances, 
and  bear  you  away  in  chunks.  They  are  noc- 
turnal in  their  habits  and  we  are  profoundly 
thankful  that  this  is  so,  for  at  night  one  sleeps 
behind  a  protecting  klamhu  or  mosquito  curtain 
which  completely  enshrouds  the  bed.  There 
one  falls  into  slumber  secure  from  their  attacks 
and  lulled  by  their  incessant  droning.  Now 
and  then  some  persistent  fellow  manages  to  find 
entrance  and  one  becomes  aware  of  a  more  shrill 
note  in  the  general  hum  that  increases  in  pitch 
until  it  is  punctuated  with  a  hesitant  quaver 
followed  by  a  red-hot  stab, — upon  almost  any 
spot,  but  generally  on  the  temple,  where  it 
accomplishes  most.  This  is  the  occasion  of  two 
things.  The  first,  a  hunting-expedition  with  a 
lighted  wax  taper,  which  ends  in  the  incineration 
of  the  intruder,  and  an  angry  determination  to 
murder  INIoh  the  very  next  morning  for  leaving 
an  opening  in  the  folds  of  the  net.  Justly  or 
unjustly,  Mob  always  serves  as  scapegoat.  He 
thrives  on  it. 

Dinner  over,  we  hunt  up  a  tin  cigar  box  to 


THE  PARADISE-HUNTER         31 

serve  as  an  ash-tray  and  take  it  to  bed  with  us. 
It  is  too  early  to  go  to  sleep  and  too  mosquito-y, 
if  I  may  use  the  term,  to  be  up  and  around.  In 
New  Guinea  one  hides  from  these  pests  as  soon 
as  darkness  falls.  Moh,  though  he  has  a  leather 
skin,  builds  a  great  smudge  of  cocoanut  husks. 
The  smoke  of  it  makes  him  weep  and  gasp,  but 
he  persists  in  his  friendly  gossip  with  a  man 
from  Java  lately  come  to  Merauke,  telHng  him 
the  latest  news  and  of  his  latest  wife.  The 
other  listens  with  sparkling  eyes  and  rapt  atten- 
tion to  Mob's  description. 


CHAPTER  III 

The  Kampong 

TO-DAY  the  assistant  is  resting.  The 
steamer  is  gone.  We  shall  go  hunting 
adventure  on  our  own.  Four  miles  inland  there 
is  a  kampong  where  live  about  fifty  Kia  Kias. 
As  the  day  is  warm  we  will  put  on  the  lightest 
clothing  we  have  and  go  there.  We  cannot 
miss  the  way,  for  the  only  road  of  which  the 
country  boasts  passes  the  place.  It  leads  to  a 
deceased  missionary's  little  plantation  about 
three  miles  farther  on. 

The  last  building  we  pass  on  our  way  through 
the  outer  fringes  of  the  little  town  is  a  rambling 
whitewashed  structure.  It  is  the  government 
hospital.  We  must  see  this  place,  for  in  it  they 
are  striving  to  save  the  Vanishing  INIen.  We 
are  met  at  the  little  office  door  by  a  nurse  in 

32 


Each  of  the  nun  has  perforated  the  septum  of  his  nose  to  permit 
inserting  a  pair  of  boar-tusks 


A   pair   ol   alliyalni-  ted li   make  a  wonddinl   imse  urnainent 


THE  KAMPONG  33 

modest  white.  She  is  the  only  one  on  duty  now, 
for  nurses  are  hard  to  obtain  in  this  out-of-the- 
way  corner  of  our  old  footstool.  She  is  half 
white  and  half  Chinese.  She  speaks  five  lan- 
guages fluently,  we  find,  for  as  we  converse  with 
her  she  lapses  into  French  now  and  then,  with 
sprinklings  of  Malay  and  Dutch.  It  is  a  habit 
linguists  have,  for  they  find  finer  shades  of 
meaning  in  varied  tongues.  Her  English  is 
perfect  and  we  take  for  granted  the  purity  of 
her  Pekinese,  for  she  tells  us  she  was  born  in  the 
Celestial  Empire. 

In  the  wards  she  shows  us  the  patients  in  her 
care.  Here  we  find  the  curse  of  civilization 
stalking  like  a  grim  specter.  Statistics,  she  in- 
forms us,  give  the  Kia  Kias  fourteen  years  more 
to  live.  Once  the  race  numbered  a  hundred 
thousand,  but  now  with  the  coming  of  the 
strangers  the  venereal  scourge  is  upon  them  and 
their  ill-nurtured  bodies  cannot  withstand  the 
heroic  treatment  necessary  for  successfully  com- 
bating the  disease.  The  mere  confinement  in 
the  hospital  kills  some  of  them. 


34      THE  ISLE  OF  VAXISHIXG  MEN 

Before  the  coming  of  the  strangers  they  were 
a  healthy  race  that  thrived  and  prospered. 
True,  they  ate  one  another,  but  their  diet  seemed 
to  agree  with  them.  It  was  the  greatest 
pleasure  they  got  out  of  life.  These  dimier- 
parties  are  taboo  now  and  the  poor  devils  within 
reach  of  the  punishing  whites  have  nothing  for 
which  to  live.  They  are  a  race  without  ambi- 
tion, lacking  zest  of  life,  and  seek  excitement  in 
excesses  that  take  toll  of  hundreds  where  the 
roasting-pit  claimed  but  a  comparative  few. 
In  early  days  there  was  tribal  organization, 
which  was  necessary  for  surviv^al.  Xow  they 
live  in  less  dread  and  great  sloth,  their  idleness 
breeding  indulgence  in  the  only  thing  left  to 
them,  unrestricted  sensuality.  True,  the  tribes 
that  live  in  the  remote  fastnesses  of  the  jungle 
still  maintain  the  old  customs  and  they  are  con- 
taminated only  slightlj'-  with  the  scourge;  still, 
it  has  found  them. 

With  mixed  emotions  we  leave  the  hospital. 
The  advice  of  the  engineer  comes  to  us  with  new 
significance.     Every  ship  or  schooner  that  plies 


THE  KAMPONG  35 

the  islands  has  been  freighted  with  the  scourge, 
gathered  from  the  four  winds  and  brought  here. 
Then  come  the  missionaries  further  to  darken 
the  sky,  for  do  they  not  lift  hands,  eyes  raised 
askance,  at  the  naked  savage  and  force  him  to 
don  clothes?  The  childlike  and  untutored  na- 
tives do  not  know  that  in  rain-soaked  clothing 
there  lurks  a  menace.  Their  naked  skins  shed 
the  water  and  they  never  become  chilled,  but 
those  whom  the  missionaries  have  clothed  are 
one  and  all  subject  to  pulmonary  troubles  that 
are  making  further  inroads  on  the  race. 

The  road  winds  into  the  jungle  where  the 
silence  is  absolute.  A  mile  from  town  it  has 
dwindled  to  a  mere  foot-path.  As  we  brush  the 
close-growing  shrubs  that  border  it,  we  dislodge 
clouds  of  midges  and  mosquitos  which,  with  the 
moist  heat  and  the  perspiration  that  soaks  us, 
become  intolerable.  However,  we  have  set  out 
for  the  kampong,  and  shall  go  there. 

After  an  interminable  hour,  we  come  to  a 
clearing  where  we  find  a  palm-thatched  shack. 
Three    naked    children    are    sprawling    on    the 


36     THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

ground,  chattering  baby  talk.  They  do  not 
notice  our  approach  until  we  are  close  to  them, 
but  as  we  say  "hello"  they  bounce  to  their  feet 
and  disappear  in  the  bush  with  wild  cries  of 
alarm.  They  are  just  like  any  of  the  wild 
things  that  live  in  the  jungle.  We  laugh  at 
their  sudden  fear  and  call  to  them  to  return, 
while  their  mother  inside  the  shack  peeps  fur- 
tively at  us  through  a  crevice  in  the  wall. 
Evidently  she  is  not  much  frightened,  for  she 
comes  to  the  door  and  greets  us  with,  "Tahe, 
Tuans"  the  stock  greeting  of  the  Malay-speak- 
ing native.  She  is  clad  in  her  birthday  clothing, 
as  naked  as  on  her  natal  day  save  for  a  hea\y 
necklace  of  shells  wound  twice  around  her  neck. 
She  approaches  us  with  easy  grace,  wholly  un- 
conscious of  her  nudity.  Though  she  wears  no 
covering  whatever,  she  is  clothed,  for  the  dignity 
with  which  she  moves  and  her  utter  lack  of  self- 
consciousness  form  a  garment  that  drapes  her 
pleasingly. 

Going  to  a  pile  of  cocoanuts  beside  the  shack, 
she   selects   two   wliicli   she   opens   with    a   deft 


Enormous  nose-tubes  of  bamboo  which  entirely  close  the  nostril 
making  breathing  possible  only  through  the  mouth 


The  ^Yomen  wear  in  many  cases  a  tiny  breech-clout,  but  no  other 
covering 


THE  KAMPONG  37 

stroke  of  a  heavy  broad-bladed  knife.  These 
she  gives  us,  with  a  smile  and  a  sinuous,  almost 
coquettish  lifting  of  the  hip  as  she  stretches  her 
arm  to  hand  them  to  us.  Bidding  us  wait,  she 
disappears  inside  the  shack,  emerging  in  a 
moment  with  two  Chinese  enameled  cups  which 
she  offers  us.  We  thank  her,  but  prefer  to 
drink  the  cool  water  of  the  nuts  from  the  shell. 

The  brown-skinned  urchins,  upon  seeing  their 
mother  in  friendly  conversation  with  the  stran- 
gers, return  to  the  clearing  and  eye  us  with 
wonder  and  some  distrust.  They  are  on  their 
little  toes,  so  to  speak,  watching  for  the  slightest 
suspicious  movement,  ready  to  fly  to  the  protec- 
tive jungle.  Their  big  sloe  eyes  gi'ow  wistful 
as  we  offer  them  some  pennies  and  their  mother 
reassures  them,  finally  overcoming  their  fears 
and  bringing  them  to  the  place  where  we  are 
crouched  upon  our  haunches  with  hands  out- 
stretched. They  reach  out,  snatch  the  pennies, 
and  are  gone,  whereupon  the  mother  shrieks 
with  merriment.  While  we  are  laughing  over 
the  httle   comedy   a  boy  of  possibly  eighteen 


38      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

years,  naked  as  his  mother,  comes  from  the 
thicket  with  some  more  cocoanuts,  which  he 
tosses  on  the  pile  by  the  shack.  He  looks  in- 
quiringly at  us  and  his  mother  directs  him  to 
guide  us  to  the  kampong,  which  is  set  back  off 
the  path  a  few  rods. 

The  sound  of  laughter  and  some  one  singing 
in  full-voiced  baritone  greets  us  as  we  near  the 
kampong.  A  man  is  singing  a  Kia  Kia  melody 
that  sounds  as  though  he  were  ill.  He  finishes 
the  song  as  we  enter  the  narrow  opening  in  the 
kampong  wall  and  all  the  natives  in  sight  gaze 
at  us  for  a  fraction  of  a  second,  paralyzed  with 
surprise  and  fright. 

The  spell  is  broken  the  moment  we  step  inside 
and  they  leap  en  masse  for  the  exit  in  the  rear  of 
the  kampong  and  wedge  there  in  a  ludicrous 
struggle  of  arms  and  legs.  Somehow  they 
force  their  way  through  the  opening  and  the  en- 
closure is  deserted  except  for  a  few  old  women 
too  old  to  get  away. 

Our  presence  in  the  kampong  is  resented  by 
the  canine  population,  which  gathers  before  us 


THE  KAMPONG  39 

in  a  semicircle  and  howls  in  great  anguish  of 
spirit.  Soon  a  dusky  form  slithers  in  through 
the  exit,  to  be  followed  by  several  more,  and  all 
stand  grouped  at  a  respectful  distance,  eyeing 
us  closely.  They  are  women,  startlingly  nude. 
As  they  come  to  no  harm  at  our  hands,  the  men 
take  heart  and  return  singly  till  all  the  inmates 
of  the  kampong  are  again  at  home.  After  a 
silent  study  of  us  the  men  evidently  realize  that 
we  are  harmless,  for  they  break  into  loud  laugh- 
ter, which  is  taken  up  by  the  women,  and  come 
toward  us  to  make  us  welcome.  The  women 
gather  around  and,  though  laughing  uproar- 
iously, seem  friendly  enough. 

We  are  in  a  real  cannibal  village,  and,  as  it  is 
our  first,  we  are  somewhat  curious  about  it. 
We  start  in  by  examining  the  natives  and  note 
the  curious  decorations  with  which  they  adorn 
themselves.  Each  of  the  men  has  perforated 
the  septum  of  his  nose  to  permit  of  inserting  a 
pair  of  boar  tusks  or  pig  knuckles.  This  of 
course  interferes  with  his  breathing,  so  he  has 
cut  two  vertical  openings  through  the  sides  of 


40      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

the  nose  through  which  the  air  whistles  at  each 
inhalation.  The  faces  of  all  the  men  are  be- 
smeared with  paint,  which  they  make  from 
colored  earths  they  gather  and  grind  into  a  fine 
powder. 

The  ears  of  both  men  and  women  are  perfo- 
rated in  the  lower  part  of  the  lobes,  which, 
by  reason  of  the  many  heavy  brass  rings  with 
which  they  are  weighted,  hang  down  well  upon 
the  neck,  some  of  them  even  touching  the  shoul- 
ders. All  wear  necklaces  of  shell,  with  some- 
times a  variation  in  the  shape  of  vari-colored 
seeds  sewn  upon  pieces  of  trade  cloth.  The 
men  wear  no  loin-cloth,  but  those  of  family  wear 
a  grotesquely  inadequate  substitute  comprised 
of  a  shell  and  a  string  of  bark  fiber.  The 
women  in  many  cases*  wear  a  tiny  breech-clout 
of  twisted  fiber  scarcely  bigger  than  the  palm  of 
one  hand,  a  triangular  patch  that  because  of  its 
color  and  texture  does  not  seem  to  exist.  JNIany 
of  them  seem  to  be  sufficiently  happy  without 
even  this  pretense  at  clothing  and  in  no  way 
conscious    of    their    nakedness.     Among    those 


THE  KAMPONG  41 

under  the  age  of  twenty  of  both  sexes  there  is  no 
attempt  at  covering. 

We  are  as  much  objects  of  curiosity  to  them 
as  they  to  us  and  while  we  have  been  studying 
them  they  have  been  picking  us.  to  pieces.  The 
women  pluck  at  our  silk  shirts  and  try  to  peep 
inside,  doing  it  gently,  however,  for  fear  of  a- 
rousing  our  anger.  They  are  like  a  throng  of 
curious,  happy  children  and  now  and  then  one 
of  the  younger  women  will  burst  into  shrieks  of 
laughter  at  some  sally  of  her  mates  and  run  a 
few  steps  away,  w^here  she  leaps  up  and  down 
in  exuberance  of  spirits. 

They  move  like  graceful  animals,  each  muscle 
rippling  under  its  sheathing  of  dark  bronze  with 
a  freedom  and  smoothness  that  makes  us  envy 
them  their  unrestrained  ease.  Here  are  no 
bloated  abdomens,  no  pinched-in  waists.  They 
have  never  seen  corsets.  Their  bodies  and 
limbs  are  clean-lined  and  well  rounded  and 
they  walk  haughtily  erect. 

In  response  to  our  inquiries  as  to  their  shel- 
ters they  extend  us  a  laughing  invitation  to  visit 


42      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

theiii  and  lead  iis  to  the  low  thatched  shelves  that 
run  around  the  enclosure,  which  forms  their 
back  wall.  Supported  upon  low  legs  of  bamboo 
is  a  long  platform  which  completely  encircles  the 
kampong.  There  are  no  partitions  of  any  kind 
to  screen  from  view  the  various  intimacies  of 
family  life.  One  may  sit  upon  the  platform 
and  see  whatever  transpires  in  the  homes  of  the 
entire  kampong.  In  fact,  these  people  live  en- 
tirely on  a  community  basis,  and  there  are  no 
secrets. 

Johnny  woosl  Milly,  or  whatever  their  names 
may  be,  with  little  regard  for  the  others  and 
may  live  with  her  for  some  time  without  censure 
before  he  finally  decides  that  marriage  is  the 
proper  thing.  If  he  finds  her  to  his  liking  he 
may  inform  the  rest  that  he  will  keep  her,  and 
that  is  all  there  is  to  it.  There  is  no  scandal,  for 
all  know  everything.  Gossip  there  is  in  plentj', 
but  that  is  when  some  member  plays  hookey  and 
visits  another  kampong  with  too  nuich  regular- 
ity. Conduct  of  this  sort  is  frowned  upon,  but 
not  punished  except  by  the  hookee's — what  shall 


THE  KAMPONG  43 

I  call  her? — sparring  partner,  who  if  she  learns 
of  the  situation  may  take  the  offender  to  task. 
But  such  is  life  even  in  our  own  land  of  Wednes- 
day evenings  and  cabarets. 

Our  hosts  bring  cocoanuts,  which  they  open 
for  us  to  drink  from,  and  offer  us  food.  We 
drink,  but,  strange  to  say,  are  not  hungry.  Our 
cigarettes  are  received  with  marked  approval, — 
so  marked,  in  fact,  that  they  are  snatched  from 
us  by  the  package  the  moment  we  pass  out  the 
first  one.  They  take  it  for  granted  that  we 
want  them  to  have  them  and  do  not  wish  to  put 
us  to  the  trouble  of  distributing  them.  They  do 
this  themselves,  after  the  fashion  of  ten  dogs 
after  one  bone,  but  with  surprising  good  nature. 
They  love  tobacco,  which  they  get  from  the 
ubiquitous  Chinese  or  JNIalay  traders.  Having 
no  paper  with  which  to  make  cigarettes,  they 
generally  eat  the  tobacco,  but  some  roll  the 
coarse  shag  in  pandanus  leaves,  making  cigars 
which  would  put  to  sleep  even  confirmed  smok- 
ers like  us. 

The  hours  pass  swiftly  and  we  hear  a  pattering 


44     THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

on  the  dry  palni-leaves  above  us.  The  sky  is 
overcast  and  we  have  fom*  miles  of  humid  going 
ahead  of  us.  After  an  afternoon  spent  in  loll- 
ing around  with  our  new  friends  we  hear  the  call 
of  the  bath-house,  and  we  bid  them  adieu, — for 
the  present  without  reluctance. 

If  these  are  the  good  Kia  Kias, — in  contact 
with  whites  more  or  less,  for  they  live  beneath 
the  shadow  of  the  assistant's  authority, — we 
wonder  what  the  tribes  in  the  interior  are  like. 
"Well,"  we  tell  ourselves,  "we  shall  see  them 
soon  now.  Next  week  at  this  time  we  shall  be 
among  them,  alone  and  far  from  the  arm  of  the 
white  man's  law." 


A   luiig  platfunii   which   fUtiiuly   oneirck's   tlio   kamponj 


Durin;,'    the  (hiy    tlif   iiirii   occupy    the  fsU'cpinj^'-bcmlios,    \vliik>   the 
wuiiu'ii  .sit  upon  Hit*  rtiiiidy  Hoor  of  the  shacks 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  Assistant  and  the  Nautilus 

THE  whitewashed  buildings  of  the  govern- 
ment headquarters  reflect  the  sunlight 
with  an  intolerable  glare  as  we  swing  up  the 
path  from  the  road.  At  the  door  of  the  assist- 
ant's office  we  are  greeted  by  an  obsequious 
Ambonese  in  regulation  white.  His  trousers 
are  very  short,  though  whether  by  design  or  be- 
cause of  repeated  shrinkings,  I  am  not  prepared 
to  say.  On  his  head  he  wears  a  batik  turban  one 
corner  of  which  seems  to  flirt  with  us  in  feminine 
coquettishness  as  he  bows  and  scrapes.  The 
"Residentee"  is  awaiting  our  pleasure,  he  informs 
us.  From  the  cool  semi-darkness  of  the  office 
comes  a  voice  in  soft  Malay  telling  the  man  to 
show  the  Tuans  in,  and  forthwith  we  enter. 
After  the  terrific  glare  of  out-of-doors  we  grope 

45 


46     THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

momentarily,  but  our  eyes  soon  accommodate 
themselves  to  the  grateful  dimness  and  we  see 
before  us  a  little  brown-skinned  man  of  some 
forty  years,  with  bristling  mustachios,  extending 
a  friendly  hand. 

He  is  filled  with  the  importance  of  the  occa- 
sion. Are  we  well?  Do  we  like  Merauke? 
Are  we  sufficiently  comfortable  in  the  passan- 
grahan?  Have  we  recovered  from  the  ennui  of 
our  long  voyage?  He  showers  us  with  solicita- 
tion as  to  our  welfare  and  inmiediately  we  feel 
that  we  are  among  friends.  It  is  a  habit  that 
these  foreign  officials  have,  to  make  one  at  home 
upon  the  instant. 

Greetings  over  and  assurance  given  that  all 
is  as  it  should  be,  we,  running  true  to  American 
form,  get  down  to  business.  This  is  distinctly 
painful  to  the  "Residentee,"  for  as  yet  we  are 
not  really  acquainted.  He  lifts  his  hands  in 
remonstrance  and  exclaims,  "Ah,  these  Amer- 
icans!" and  shakes  his  head  as  though  non- 
plussed at  our  bustling  impetuosity.  "Huriy, 
hurry,  hurry!"  he  remarks  audibly,  but  really  to 


ASSISTANT  AND  NAUTILUS     47 

himself;  then  to  us:  "You  must  slow  down  over 
here  or  you  will  not  last;  the  heat,  it  is  too 
much."  He  tells  us  this  with  a  sage-like  shake 
of  his  head. 

His  desire  to  please,  however,  outweighs  his 
scruples  against  talking  business  in  the  first  ten 
minutes  of  an  acquaintance  and  he  asks  us  what 
he  can  do  for  us,  in  the  manner  of  one  wtho  will 
give  anything  yet  secretly  fears  that  he  may  be 
asked  the  impossible.  These  Americans,  you 
know,  think  that  just  anything  can  be  done.  A 
wave  of  the  hand  and  presto,  it  is ! 

What  we  want  is  really  a  good  deal,  so,  taking 
a  fresh  grip  on  our  ner^^e  and  with  a  deep  breath 
to  go  on,  we  request  in  a  low,  dulcet  voice :  "The 
loan  of  the  government  schooner  and  crew  for  a 
few  weeks.  We  are  very  much  interested  in  the 
Kia  Kias  and  should  like  to  study  them  in  their 
homes,  far  away  from  outside  influences.  Will 
you  be  so  kind  as  to  let  us  have  the  schooner  for 
a  trip  around  the  western  end  of  the  island, 
where  the  really  wild  tribes  live?" 

The  Assistant  heaves  a  sigh  of  relief.     "What 


48     THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

could  be  easier!"  he  exclaims.  His  slim  brown 
hand  taps  a  bell  on  the  desk  before  him  and  a 
"boy"  of  fifty  slides  into  adamantine  immobility 
beside  the  doorway  of  the  sanctum.  In  a  few 
terse  words  the  captain  of  the  Nautilus  is  sum- 
moned. It  seems  that  our  little  Assistant  is 
something  of  a  martinet  with  his  men.  When 
within  range  of  his  eye  they  straighten  up  with 
ramrod  stiffness.  In  his  domain  his  word  is 
law;  rather,  he  is  the  law. 

Ula,  skipper  of  the  Nautilus,  has  been  loung- 
ing in  the  shade  of  the  Chinese  toko,  or  general 
store,  near  the  dock.  The  toko  is  but  a  few  rods 
from  the  Assistant's  office,  and  the  man  sent  for 
the  skipper  readily  finds  him.  The  two  enter 
together  and  stand  at  attention  while  the  As- 
sistant delivers  himself  of  a  long  harangue  in 
Malay  that  flows  in  so  rapid  a  stream  that  our 
unaccustomed  ears  catc'h  only  a  small  part  of  it. 

Ula  does  not  seem  inordinately  happy  over  the 
prospect.  From  the  mention  of  prampoen  and 
the  assistant's  angry  tone  as  Ula  utters  the  word, 
we  gather  that  he  has  a  new  sweetheart  w^ho  is 


ASSISTANT  AND  NAUTILUS      49 

occupying  his  time  at  present.  The  conversa- 
tion dies  away  in  a  moment,  and  the  Assistant 
later  tells  us  that  Ula  wanted  to  know  whether 
he  might  take  the  girl  with  him  to  finish  *his 
courting. 

Ula  departs  disconsolately  for  the  schooner. 
The  Assistant  has  ordered  it  made  ready  for  us 
to-morrow  morning.  He  waves  a  deprecating 
hand  at  our  effusive  thanks  and  says  that  he  is 
only  sorry  that  he  cannot  do  'more  for  us.  He 
asks  us  about  America,  meaning  the  United 
States,  and  we  c^hat  for  an  hour.  As  the  time 
for  his  siesta  draws  near  we  rise  to  go,  for  in  the 
islands  one  must  never  interfere  with  another's 
midday  sleep;  it  is  n't  done. 

Before  we  take  leave  of  the  obliging  little  man 
he  asks  us  to  be  permitted  as  an  especial  favor 
to  ship  a  party  of  five  Kia  Kias  up  the  coast 
a  little  distance  on  "our"  schooner.  They  are 
some  natives  that  have  just  finished  a  one- 
month  term  in  the  local  hoosgow  or  jail.  The 
offense  was  trivial.  There  had  been  a  disagree- 
ment in  their  village  with  a  visitor  and  when 


50     THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

the  argument  ended  the   visitor  was  deceased. 

"We  have  to  check  them  a  little,"  remarks  the 
Assistant.  "We  could  not  fix  the  hlame  exactly, 
so  we  gathered  up  three  men  who  were  implicated 
and  two  of  them  brought  their  wives." 

After  further  assurances  on  the  part  of  the 
Assistant  that  the  natives  shall  in  no  way  inter- 
fere with  our  convenience  on  the  schooner,  and 
from  us  many  expressions  of  our  gratitude,  we 
depart.  As  we  walk  down  the  sweltering  road- 
way along  the  riverfront  we  congratulate  our- 
selves on  the  success  of  the  interview.  The 
Nautilus  will  save  us  many  heartbreaking  miles 
of  grueling  jungle  travel. 

In  the  passangrahan  Moh  has  a  "rice-taffle" 
ready  for  us.  Rice-taffle!  No  wonder  these 
Dutch  gentlemen  indulge  in  an  all-afternoon 
siesta!  Every  noon — rice-taffle!  A  tremendous 
bowl  of  rice,  chicken  cooked  in  four  or  five  dif- 
ferent ways, — boiled,  fried,  roasted,  and  I  don't 
know  how  to  describe  the  others, — two  or  three 
varieties  of  fish;  a  peppery  soup-like  sauce  with 
which  to  drench  the  heaped-up  contents  of  the 


ASSISTANT  AND  NAUTILUS      51 

platter,  and  a  dozen  different  sweetmeats,  con- 
diments, and  garnitures.  It  is  so  good  that  one 
invariably  overeats  and  repletion,  together  with 
the  sultry  heat  of  midday,  brings  a  drowsiness 
that  makes  bed  welcome.  Even  the  ever-busi- 
nesslike Chinese  closes  his  toko  and  sleeps  until 
four  o'clock.  At  that  hour,  or  shortly  after, 
every  one  wakes  up  and  the  splashing  in  the  bath- 
liouse  is  prodigious.  The  evening  coolness  brings 
the  hour  of  the  promenade  and  the  streets  and 
byways  are  gay  with  the  varicolored  sarongs 
tliat  the  JNIalay  women  affect.  The  men  come 
forth  in  suits  of  white  drill  fresh  from  the  dhobie 
and  saunter  along  with  cigarettes  aglow,  lead- 
ing by  the  hands  naked  kiddies  for  whom  they 
have  a  very  genuine  fondness. 

Many  of  the  little  girls  of,  say,  three  to  six 
years  wear,  suspended  from  a  single  cord 
around  their  plump  little  loins,  a  pendant  that 
serves  both  as  covering  and  ornament.  This  usu- 
ally takes  the  form  of  a  gold  or  silver  heart  of 
possibly  three-inch  length  and  proportionate 
width.     It  is  amusing  to  watch  a  group  of  these 


52      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

innocents  at  play.  Sometimes  a  small  girl's 
heart  becomes  displaced,  and  hangs  mmoticed 
for  a  time  upon  her  hip.  This  is  not  at  all  dis- 
concerting to  her  or  to  her  infant  male  com- 
panions. When  she  discovers  the  disarrange- 
ment of  this  sole  article  of  her  apparel  she  will 
stop  play  and  readjust  it  with  the  utmost  un- 
concern and  charming  naivete.  Play  is  then  re- 
sumed. Her  manner  is  precisely  that  of  one  of 
our  high-school  girls  who  pauses  between  sets 
in  tennis  to  powder  her  nose. 

As  we  pass  the  people  in  the  promenade,  all 
from  elders  down  to  the  little  naked  tots,  greet 
us  with  "Tahe,  Tuan"  and  the  elders  smile  in 
fond  amusement  at  their  offsprings'  baby  lisping 
of  the  greeting.  We  like  the  INIalays  very  much ; 
and  the  Chinese,  too,  for  they  are  always  pleasant 
to  us. 


CHAPTER  V 

We're  Off! 

HIGH  tide  at  nine  to-day!  On  the  Nau- 
tilus the  crew  are  shortening  up  on  the 
anchor  chain,  for  the  rusty  old  hook  has  been 
buried  in  the  river  mud  for  two  months.  We 
sail  at  full  tide,  which  enables  us  to  skirt  the  shore 
of  the  western  flats  and  save  mudi  time  in  get- 
ting out  to  sea. 

Mob  has  superintended  the  moving  of  all  our 
effects  to  the  little  schooner  w^hile  we  have  been 
in  the  trading-company's  store  making  some 
eleventh-hour  purchases  of  tobacco  and  tin  mir- 
rors for  the  natives  and  cigars  for  ourselves. 
The  three  white  men  in  charge  bid  us  Godspeed, 
after  many  admonitions  to  take  care  of  ourselves 
and  warnings  not  to  trust  the  Kia  Kias  too  far. 
Grouped  in  a  little  knot  upon  the  veranda  of  the 

53 


54      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

store,  silent,  they  sadly  watch  us  depart.  We, 
too,  hate  to  say  good-by;  we  have  had  some 
pleasant  chats  with  them. 

We  go  directly  to  the  schooner,  anxious  to  take 
up  the  trail  to  adventure.  Ula  is  waiting  for  us 
beside  the  wharf  in  the  tiny  dinghy.  As  we  drop 
into  it  it  sinks  with  our  weight  so  that  the  gun- 
wale is  scarcely  three  inches  above  water  and  we 
have  visions  of  making  the  short  trip  to  the 
Nautilus  each  for  himself,  swimming.  Nothing 
more  serious  than  the  shipping  of  a  few  gallons 
of  the  muddy  river  water  happens,  however,  and 
we  arrive  alongside  the  Nautilus,  in  high  spirits, 
though  with  feet  and  legs  soaked.  We  probably 
shall  be  much  wetter  than  this  before  the  trip  is 
over,  is  the  cheering  thought  that  comes  to  us. 

As  we  clamber  up  over  the  schooner's  low  rail 
we  scan  the  deck.  Up  forward  are  our  five  ex- 
convicts.  Their  brief  sojourn  in  the  hoosgow 
has  quieted  them  down  a  bit  and  they  are  not 
particularly  effusive  in  their  greetings.  In  fact, 
they  don't  even  notice  us,  but  sit  huddled  to- 
gether just  back  of  the  anchor  winch  with  dirty 


WE'RE  OFF!  55 

bark-cloth  blankets  thrown  over  their  heads.  We 
go  forward  to  look  them  over  and  they  return  our 
gaze  with  a  half-conciliatory,  half -annoyed  ex- 
pression that  makes  us  grin. 

Our  grin  seems  to  be  taken  as  an  assurance  of 
good-will,  for  they  in  turn  smile  slightly  and  one 
of  the  women  bursts  out  in  a  hearty  laugh.  From 
that  moment  we  "belong."  Ula  seems  anxious 
to  get  under  way  and  comes  stumbling  forward 
with  two  of  the  crew.  Most  of  our  barang  is 
still  on  deck,  awaiting  our  orders  concerning  its 
disposal,  and  over  this  the  trio  have  some  diffi- 
culty in  making  their  way.  The  dinghy  further 
complicates  matters,  for  it  has  been  hoisted  and 
deposited  edge  up  beside  the  rail.  One  of  the 
crew  jumps  upon  it,  as  the  easiest  way,  and  runs 
over  it,  balancing  like  a  tight-rope  walker  on  the 
narrow  rolling  edge  of  the  thing  as  though  it  were 
a  solid  sidewalk.  His  pride  takes  a  fall,  how- 
ever, for  as  he  jumps  from  it  he  finds  insecure 
footing  where  the  water  from  the  dinghy  has 
made  the  deck  slippery  and  falls  flat,  to  the  huge 
delight  of  our  friends  the  criminals. 


56     THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

The  boys  hoist  the  sail  on  the  foremast  and 
the  Nautilus  swings  around  to  break  out  the 
anchor.  This  done,  Ula  snaps  a  sharp  command 
in  JNIakiy  to  the  boys  in  the  bow,  who  seize  the 
rusty  handles  of  the  winch  and  slowly  bring  the 
old  nmd-hook  to  the  surface.  How  they  accom- 
plish this  is  a  mystery,  for  at  every  turn  one  of 
the  handles  of  the  winch  slips  on  the  shaft,  while 
Ula  tries  to  tighten  it  with  wedges  of  wood 
driven  into  the  handle  socket. 

Our  Kia  Kia  friends  are  very  much  interested 
in  the  proceedings  and  gather  closely  around. 
This  gets  on  Ula's  nerves  to  such  an  extent  that 
he  unceremoniously  kicks  the  men  out  of  the  way, 
which  they  do  not  seem  to  resent  particularly; 
they  sit  down  again  out  of  harm's  way,  but  keep 
up  a  lively  flow  of  comment.  Ula  is  much  dis- 
gusted with  them  and  the  glances  he  gives  them 
make  us  wonder  if  they  are  going  to  enjoy  their 
trip  home. 

The  town  is  fast  dropping  into  the  hazy  dis- 
tance, and  save  for  the  chatter  of  the  crew  and 
the   natives,   and   now  and   tlicn   the   thumping 


WE'RE  OFF!  57 

splash  of  a  husky  comber  against  the  bow,  all  is 
silent.  Moh  places  our  dunnage  below  in  the 
tiny  saloon.  He  carries  the  groceries  down  last, 
for  he  will  have  to  cook  all  of  our  meals  there. 
The  crew  cook  theirs  over  a  sort  of  fireplace 
built  right  on  deck,  just  aft  of  the  foremast. 
After  inspecting  the  saloon,  which  contains  two 
sleeping-bunks,  we  decide  to  sleep  on  deck.  The 
atmosphere  of  the  saloon  is  hard  to  describe. 
It  is  hot  and  stuffy  and  a  strong  smell  of  bilge- 
water  comes  from  beneath  the  floor.  No,  it  is  n't 
possible  to  sleep  there.  Moh  grins  when  we  tell 
him  to  place  our  cots  on  deck. 

We  clear  the  mouth  of  the  river  and  swing  out- 
ward on  a  long  tack,  for  the  wind  is  coming  dead 
against  us.  This  will  make  the  up-coast  trip 
slow,  but  what  care  we?  We  have  plenty  of 
time  and  then  we  may  always  console  ourselves 
with  the  thought,  "Well,  maybe  something  will 
happen."  As  we  swerve  into  the  trough  of  the 
sea  the  Nautilus  begins  to  roll  and  a  groan  comes 
from  the  Kia  Kias  on  the  forward  deck.  They 
are  experiencing  their  first  case  of  seasickness 


58     THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

and  seem  very  wretched  indeed.  I  have  been 
told  that  seasickness  is  wholly  mental  and  that 
babies  are  never  sick  at  sea  because  they  have  no 
fear  of  being  so,  nor  any  knowledge  of  how  others 
are  affected.  The  poor  savages  by  the  foremast 
seem  to  refute  this  theory,  for  though  they  are 
grown-ups,  they  can  have  had  no  previous  ex- 
perience of  the  sea,  having  come  from  far  inland, 
and  it  is  not  likely  that  they  have  ever  discussed 
seasickness.  They  succmr.b  one  by  one  until 
all  are  down. 

Moh  walks  by  with  a  stony  glare  in  his  eye,  as 
though  all  were  not  right  with  him,  and  later 
becomes  a  delicate  robin's-egg  green  around  the 
gills,  but  he  continues  at  work  with  a  never-say- 
die  expression  that  wins  our  admiration.  Moh 
is  all  right,  we  whisper  to  ourselves ;  he  's  game, 
anyway. 

The  day  wears  on,  the  only  diversion  being 
when  Ula  calls  to  the  men  to  tack.  He  is  sitting 
beside  us  in  the  stem  with  the  tiller  ropes  in 
hand.  Now  and  then  we  attempt  to  break  the 
monotony   by   taking  a   turn   at  steering,   and 


WE'RE  OFF!  59 

silently  flatter  ourselves  that  we  are  doing  it  as 
skilfully  as  he.  But  Ula  now  and  then  casts 
a  critical  glance  aloft  and  finally  takes  the  ropes 
from  us.  A  slight  tug  at  one  or  the  other  of 
them  and  the  sails  fill,  catching  all  the  wind  which 
we  have  been  missing.  There  is  an  amused  grin 
on  Ula's  face.  Moh  is  asleep  on  the  deck  in  the 
shade  of  the  low  saloon  bulkhead.  The  sea  is 
very  calm  and  the  sky  cloudless  except  for  a  few 
low-hanging  clouds  which  fringe  the  horizon  in 
the  west.  The  easy  swells  lull  us  into  slumber, 
from  which  we  are  roused — after  what  seems 
only  ten  minutes  but  is  really  two  hours — by 
Moh,  who  is  calling  us  to  makanan.  This  is  the 
Malay  word  for  dinner  and  is,  I  believe,  the  first 
word  of  the  language  learned  by  the  traveler. 

He  has  unpacked  our  camp  table  and  set  it 
on  the  deck.  Our  meal  consists  of  canned  goods 
brought  from  the  good  old  U.  S.  A.  We  pur- 
chased a  two-months'  supply  of  them  in  Java 
and  INIoh  is  delighted,  for  all  he  has  to  do  to  cook 
them  is  to  put  a  great  bucket  of  water  on  the 
fire,  dump  the  cans  into  it,  and,  when  it  has 


60      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

boiled  a  sufficient  length  of  time,  fish  them  out 
and  open  them.  He  is  thrifty,  too,  for  he  saves 
the  hot  water  in  the  bucket  to  wash  the  dishes 
with. 

We  have  made  only  one  mistake  in  picking  out 
our  dishes:  we  purchased  aluminmn  cups.  Eveiy 
time  we  essay  a  mouthful  of  hot  coffee — and  Moh 
senses  it  piping  hot — there  is  a  sputter  and  the 
air  becomes  lurid  with  imprecations.  It  is  aston- 
ishing how  hot  those  metal  cups  can  get.  Every 
time  we  burn  our  hps  on  them  ]Moh  looks  up 
with  a  terrified,  wondering  expression,  as  though 
in  doubt  as  to  whether  we  are  berating  him  as  a 
cook  or  what.  The  Malay  does  not  understand 
the  soul-satisfaction  the  white  man  gets  from 
swearing.  He  must  have  some  specific  object 
upon  which  to  vent  his  feelings  and  his  invectives 
invariably  take  the  form  of  some  terrible  expres- 
sion such  as  "Bahi  kowT  meaning  "You  pig,"  or 
some  similarly  outrageous  figure  of  speech. 
Compared  with  our  most  conservative  epithets 
the  vocabulary  of  the  ISIalay  is  singularly  ama- 
teurish. 


WE'RE  OFF!  61 

While  Moh  clears  away  the  debris  of  the  even- 
ing meal  we  stoke  up  the  old  briers  and  watch 
the  sunset.  In  the  Indies  this  is  usually  one  of 
the  events  of  the  day.  Shortly  after  nightfall, 
which  comes  in  these  latitudes  with  surprising 
rapidity,  we  peel  off  our  clothes  and  stretch  out 
on  our  cots  with  no  other  covering  than  our  pa- 
jamas. The  sky  is  a  diamond-studded  canopy 
above  us, — blue  velvet,  unfathomable  in  depth. 
We  shall  be  sound  asleep  when  the  moon  rises 
and  shall  probably  miss  that,  though  it  is  almost 
worth  waiting  for.  Above  us,  but  a  little  to  the 
south  of  the  zenith,  hangs  the  Southern  Cross, 
which  resembles  somewhat  a  broken  kite, — one 
of  those  two-sticked  kites  of  boyhood  that  was 
diamond-shaped  and  had  one  bowed  stick.  We 
fall  asleep  tiyingto  count  the  stars  in  one  of  the 
constellations.  As  I  drop  off  I  wonder  di'owsily 
if  it  will  rain  before  morning.  If  it  does!  Oh, 
well,  what  matter?  We  can  change  to  dry  pa- 
jamas. 

Ula  is  still  on  duty  at  the  tiller  when  we  drift 
into  slumber.     He  has  a  bottle  of  cognac  beside 


62      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

him  for  company,  and  for  solace,  too,  we  imagine. 
He  must  have  hated  to  leave  his  lady-love  with 
the  courting  just  begun.  He  knows  full  well 
that  there  are  many  other  Ulas  in  her  vicinity 
who  will  do  their  best  to  keep  her  from  pining 
while  he  is  away.  In  all  probability,  though, 
should  he  find  that  in  his  absence  another  has 
taken  his  place,  he  will  be  just  as  content  with 
her  next  older  sister.  It  really  does  n't  matter 
much. 

Six  bells.  The  air  is  stifling.  There  is  a  loud 
drunmiing  sound  over  and  around  us.  As  we 
come  wide  awake  we  realize  what  the  matter  is. 
The  Nautilus  was  headed  for  a  heavy  squall  and 
Ula  called  JNIoh,  who,  rather  than  waken  us, 
simply  spread  a  hea\y  tarpauhn  over  us  to  pro- 
tect us  from  the  rain.  It  was  the  smothering 
and  not  the  storm  that  roused  us.  How  he  got 
the  covering  spread  without  disturbing  us  we 
shall  never  know.  We  rise  up  on  our  elbows 
and  peer  out  from  under  it.  The  rain  is  coming 
down  in  torrents.     Ula  is  still  at  the  tiller.     His 


WE'RE  OFF!  63 

clothes  stick  to  him  and  the  water  is  running  in 
a  steady  stream  from  the  turned-down  brim  of  his 
brown  straw  hat.  He  has  tied  it  upon  his  head 
with  a  string  passed  underneath  his  jaw.  His 
water-soaked  figure  is  ludicrous  and  we  burst  in- 
to laughter.  Ula  apparently  enjoys  the  situa- 
tion, himself,  and  does  not  seem  to  mind  the  wet- 
ting. The  bottle  of  cognac  is  still  beside  him, 
so  he  won't  get  cold.  His  capacity  for  liquor  is 
a  matter  of  great  pride  to  him;  it  is  the  envj'^  of 
his  fellows  and  the  subject  of  much  discussion 
among  them. 

Like  all  tropical  storms,  the  squall  passes  soon 
and  we  are  able  to  toss  off  the  heavy  "tarp." 
Under  it  the  heat  is  terrific.  We  wonder  how 
the  Kia  Kias  up  forward  are  faring,  but  are  not 
sufficiently  interested  to  go  there  and  find  out. 
If  Ula  and  the  crew  can  stand  it,  they  should  be 
able  to.  A  thorough  soaking  will  do  them  good, 
for  it  is  only  with  rain  that  their  bodies  are  ever 
moistened.  They  have  a  constitutional  dislike 
for  water,  even  as  a  beverage.  For  drink  they 
are  quite  content  with  the  milk  of  the  cocoanut. 


64      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

the  meat  of  which  forms  a  large  part  of  their 
diet. 

After  the  squall  the  air  is  cool  and  dehciously 
sweet.  The  breeze  comes  again  and  fills  the 
dripping  sails  which  have  been  hanging  limp  and 
motionless.  Some  of  the  crew  are  clustered 
around  the  fireplace,  cooking  fish.  They  spit 
them  upon  slivers  broken  from  one  of  our  pack- 
ing-cases and  toast  them  over  the  open  fire.  ]Moh 
is  squatted  among  them  and  seems  to  be  quite 
at  home.  Occasional  words  drift  to  us,  indicat- 
ing that  the  topic  of  discussion  is  the  usual  one, 
— the  virtues  of  their  respective  women.  This 
is  a  subject  that  the  Malay  never  seems  to  tire 
of.  In  the  kampongs  the  women  talk  likewise 
of  the  men.  Plaving  nothing  else  to  occupy 
their  thoughts,  no  business  or  serious  occupa- 
tion, naturally  they  are  interested  chiefly  in  one 
another  and  they  discuss  with  the  utmost  candor 
subjects  of  which  the  European  never  speaks. 

We  listen,  and  are  properly  shocked  at  some 
of  the  things  said  which  bring  fortli  bursts  of 
delighted   laughter   from   the    listeners;   never- 


WE'RE  OFF!  65 

theless  we  cock  our  ears  so  as  not  to  miss  any  of 
them.  One  of  the  boys  is  telling  how  well  his 
sweetheart  dances  and  he  gives  a  demonstration 
which  to  us  is  lewd  in  the  extreme  and  occasions 
uproarious  laughter.  His  companions  slap  him 
on  the  back  and  urge  him  to  continue,  but  he 
shakes  his  head  in  refusal  when  Ula  calls  to  him 
to  come  and  show  the  Tuans,  meaning  us.  This 
breaks  up  the  party,  for  they  believed  us  to  be 
asleep.  They  are  very  reserved  in  the  presence 
of  the  stranger,  for  they  sense  that  their  ways 
are  not  ours. 

It  is  only  upon  ripe  acquaintance  that  the  male 
native  will  speak  of  his  family  affairs  to  tire  white 
man,  though  the  women  seem  to  be  always  ready 
to  gossip. 

When  the  whispering  begins  again  Ula  looks 
at  us  and  grins.  He  wags  his  head  as  though 
to  say,  "It 's  too  bad,  for  he  is  very  funny,  but 
I  can't  make  him  do  it."  We  are  just  as  well 
satisfied,  and  we  turn  over  to  our  sleep.  Ula  has 
just  tossed  the  empty  cognac  bottle  over  the 
side,  where  it  bobs  away  into  the  darkness  in  a 


66      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

wabbly  dance.  The  idle  thought  drifts  through 
my  mind  that  I  should  like  to  cork  up  some  wild 
message  in  that  bottle  on  the  chance  of  its  being 
picked  up.  But  white  men  who  could  read  it 
seldom  visit  this  lonely  coast. 

We  are  the  first  to  come  in  years,  except  the 
few  "paradise-hunters."  Some  of  these  have 
taken  the  paradise  away  with  them,  while  others, 
seeking  the  one  kind  of  paradise,  have  found  an- 
other and  have  remained  after  having  served  as 
the  piece  de  resistance  of  some  gastronomic  func- 
tion. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Shipwrecked  among  Cannibals 

THE  days  have  flown  almost  uncounted. 
Our  native  passengers  left  us  several  days 
ago,  after  we  had  passed  a  large  river  which  it 
was  impossible  for  them  to  cross  on  account  of 
its  width  and  depth.  They  had  refused  to  go 
home  on  foot,  for  this  would  have  necessitated 
their  traversing  unfriendly  territory  they  knew 
to  be  dangerous  in  the  extreme. 

Landing  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  they 
were  among  tribes  more  or  less  friendly  to  their 
own  and  stood  an  excellent  chance  of  reaching 
home  in  safety. 

Their  absence  was  welcome,  for  they  had  re- 
duced the  tiny  forward  deck  to  the  condition  of 
a  pigsty.  Once  during  their  stay  on  board  two 
of  them  tried  to  get  friendly  with  us  and  came  aft 

67 


68      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

like  children  encroaching  on  forbidden  ground, 
but  Ula  made  their  stay  one  of  exceedingly  short 
duration.  In  fact,  they  did  n't  stay  at  all.  They 
did  n't  even  pause,  for  as  they  stepped  around 
the  saloon-deck  combing  Ula  spied  them  and 
with  a  well-directed  heave  of  a  large  wooden 
thole-pin  snatched  from  its  socket  on  the  rail 
sent  them  scurrying  back  to  their  end  of  the  ship. 

Five  minutes  after  we  had  landed  them  they 
disappeared  in  the  mystic  silence  of  the  jmigle, 
anxious  to  gain  the  safety  of  their  familiar 
haunts. 

We  remained  on  shore  for  an  hour  to  stretch 
our  legs,  for  the  close  quarters  on  the  Nautilus 
make  some  sort  of  exercise  necessary.  We  wan- 
dered up-river  for  a  little  distance  and  saw, 
floating  in  the  shallows  near  the  shore,  seven  or 
eight  basking  crocodiles  which  slowly  sank  from 
view  as  we  approached.  JNIany  funny  little  fish, 
with  heads  like  frogs  and  fins  in  front  like  short 
fore  legs,  flopped  and  jumped  about  on  the 
muddy  flats  the  receding  tide  had  left.  We 
watched  them   for   some  minutes   and  laughed 


SHIPWRECKED  69 

hugely  at  the  antics  of  the  fiddler-crabs  fighting 
and  trying  to  drag  one  another  into  their  respec- 
tive holes,  where  the  victor  could  eat  his  unfor- 
tunate neighbor  in  peace,  secure  from  interrup- 
tion. 

Upon  our  return  to  the  schooner  we  found 
Ula  holding  aloft  an  almost  empty  cognac  bottle. 
Upon  his  face  there  was  a  look  of  sorrow,  for  this, 
it  seemed,  was  the  very  last  of  his  once  plentiful 
stock.  After  carefully  measuring  the  contents 
with  a  speculative  eye,  he  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  remaining  fluid  was  sufficient  for  only 
one  more  drink  and  raised  the  bottle  to  his 
lips.  The  cognac  disappeared  in  one  long  swal- 
low, and  Ula  dropped  the  empty  bottle  over  the 
rail  as  though  he  were  parting  from  his  last 
friend.  This  was  as  it  should  be,  for  of  late  he 
had  begun  to  show  the  effects  of  quarts  pre- 
viously imbibed.  He  seemed  able  to  stand  one 
or  two,  but  many  bottles  drunk  in  rather  quick 
succession  were  making  themselves  felt. 

Though  he  was  fairly  steady  on  his  feet,  his 
eyes  told  the  tale  and  his  tongue  had  become 


70      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

noticeably  thick.  That  evening  he  came  to  us 
and  requested  that  we  let  him  start  on  the  stock 
we  carry  in  our  medicine  kit.  Of  course  we 
refused,  and  he  sulkily  returned  to  the  stern 
sheets  in  disconsolate  dejection.  Later  Ula  was 
seized  with  a  brilliant  idea.  His  system  craved 
alcohol.  He  must  have  it,  he  told  himself.  The 
compass  of  the  Nautilus  held  nearly  a  pint  of 
grain  alcohol.  His  face  lighted  with  anticipation 
and  before  we  realized  the  meaning  of  his  fum- 
bling with  the  instrument  he  had  unscrewed  the 
top  and  had  drained  the  raw  spirits  to  the  last 
drop.  It  was  a  draft  to  kill  a  mule  and  probably 
would  have  ended  him,  but  his  tortured  stomach 
refused  to  retain  it.  Enough  of  it  stayed  down, 
however,  to  reduce  Ula  to  the  most  satisfying 
state  of  inebriation  he  had  ever  experienced.  He 
became  very  friendly  and  most  anxious  to  please, 
while  we  just  looked  at  each  other.  There  was 
nothing  to  be  done.  We  thanked  Providence 
that  there  was  no  more  of  the  stuff  within  his 
reach  and  turned  away  from  him  in  disgust. 
That  was  just  an  hour  or  so  ago,  and  we  have 


SHIPWRECKED  71 

been  sitting  reading  while  the  Nautilus  slipped 
through  the  water  smoothly,  as  though  she  were 
commanded  by  a  skipper  who  was  the  soul  of 
sobriety.  There  is  land  to  starboard,  a  mile  or 
two  away,  one  would  judge,  and  over  there  a 
little  distance  ahead  we  see  smoke  coming  from 
the  jungle.  It  is  the  first  sign  of  native  life  we 
have  seen  since  leaving  Merauke.  After  a  hur- 
ried discussion  we  ask  Ula  what  the  place  is,  but 
he  is  foolishly  drunk  and  we  cannot  make  out 
what  he  says,  so  we  decide  for  ourselves  and  tell 
him  to  head  for  the  shore  as  we  wish  to  visit  the 
place.  Ula  swings  over  the  tiller  obligingly,  and 
we  move  at  a  lively  clip  across  the  wind  toward 
the  place. 

We  shall  go  ashore  and  investigate  the  kam- 
pong  and,  if  it  interests  us,  move  our  camp- 
ing-outfit there  and  settle  down  for  a  few  days. 
Mob  brings  up  our  cameras  and  guns  while  the 
crew  unfasten  the  dinghy  from  its  place  beside 
the  rail.  We  go  below,  to  load  some  fresh  rolls 
into  the  kodaks,  where  the  light  is  not  so  strong. 
Five  minutes  pass  while  we  are  engaged  in  this 


72      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

undertaking  and  speculation  as  to  what  kind  of 
kampong  we  shall  find,  when  suddenly  there  is 
a  terrific  shock,  a  rending,  crunching  sound,  and 
we  pick  ourselves  up  from  the  saloon  floor  and 
gaze  blankly  at  each  other,  for  the  fraction  of  a 
moment  speechless  with  consternation.  The 
cause  of  the  crash  is  self-evident.  We  are  on 
a  reef. 

From  beneath  the  floor  comes  the  gurgle  of  a 
torrent  of  water  which  is  pouring  into  the 
Nautilus  through  a  gaping  hole  in  her  bottom. 
We  are  high  upon  a  submerged  reef  of  rocky 
coral,  shipwrecked  among  cannibals!  What  the 
tribe  is  that  lives  on  shore  and  how  friendly  it  is 
remain  to  be  seen.  The  moment  is  one  of  those 
deadly  potential  eternities  that  either  make  one 
lose  all  self-control  or  become  cold  sober.  Luck- 
ily, we  are  not  of  the  hysterical  type  and  our  first 
thought  is  to  get  our  guns,  food,  and  cameras 
to  a  place  of  safety  on  shore.  The  schooner 
may  slide  off"  the  reef  into  deep  water  at  any 
moment,  and  then  we  shall  be  in  a  pickle. 

Working  like  mad,  we  begin  heaving  our  pes- 


SHIPWRECKED  73 

sessions  up  on  deck,  and  I  go  up  to  see  that  it 
is  properly  stowed  in  the  dinghy.  The  crew  are 
working  hke  demons,  and  Ula,  sobered  by  the 
catastrophe,  has  ordered  the  men  to  get  the  an- 
chor hooked  into  the  reef  and  the  chain  drawn 
taut  to  hold  us  there. 

I  take  conmiand  and  order  some  of  the  men  to 
get  the  dinghy  overside,  and  into  it  we  pack 
all  that  it  will  hold.  It  is  sent  ashore,  and  five 
trii^s  are  necessary  to  transport  the  whole  of  our 
outfit.  We  go  ashore  with  the  third  load  to  see 
that  it  is  properly  cared  for.  There  is  a  high 
surf  running,  and  in  order  to  get  the  dinghy 
through  it  without  soaking  the  baggage  we  have 
to  jump  overboard  into  waist-deep  water  and 
lielp  steer  it  through  the  breakers.  The  barang 
is  piled  up  just  above  the  reach  of  the  incoming 
surges,  but  the  tide  seems  to  be  rising. 

It  is  necessary  to  get  the  stuff  higher  up,  out 
of  reach  of  the  water,  and  we  bend  our  energies 
in  that  direction.  The  beach  seems  to  be  de- 
serted, and  we  wonder  whether  or  not  the  natives 
have  discovered  our  presence.     We  are  soon  to 


74      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

be  informed  as  to  this,  for  suddenly  we  hear  a 
guttural  grunt  and  an  explosive,  "Uhumen!  [Go 
away!]"  coming  from  the  fringe  of  tall  tapa 
grass  that  fringes  the  beach.  We  gaze  in  star- 
tled surprise  in  the  direction  of  the  sound  and 
even  as  we  look  there  spring,  like  mushrooms, 
from  the  thick  grass  a  long  row  of  black  heads 
which  seem  to  number  hundreds. 

We  stop  work  for  the  moment  and  stand  in 
indecision,  facing  the  watching  line  of  feather- 
crowned  heads.  Three  of  the  natives  rise  from 
their  crouching  position  and  advance  toward  us, 
waving  their  arms  and  shouting,  ''Uhumen!" 
From  their  menacing  manner  it  is  evident  that  we 
are  de  trop,  that  they  wish  us  to  depart.  This 
is  out  of  the  question,  for  our  only  means  of  con- 
veyance is  at  least  temporarily  on  the  rocks.  A 
rapid  calculation  tells  us  that  we  are  about  three 
hundred  miles  from  the  town  of  Merauke.  To 
walk  to  it  is  out  of  the  question,  also,  for  we 
could  not  carry  sufficient  provender,  togethetr 
with  our  expensive  equipment,  to  sustain  us  dur- 
ing the  journey.     We  are  between  the  hammer 


SHIPWRECKED  75 

and  the  anvil.     The  only  solution  of  the  difficulty 
is  to  make  friends  with  the  natives. 

The  best  way  to  do  this  is  to  assert  ourselves 
immediately,  to  show  ourselves  masters  of  the 
situation.  If  we  allow  the  natives  to  take  the 
initiative,  things  will  go  hard  with  us.  They 
have  all  seen  white  men  before,  or,  if  not,  have 
heard  much  about  them  and  fear  them. 

We  must  seem  to  justify  that  fear.  As  the 
three  Kia  Kias  draw  near  to  us  we  beckon  to 
them  and,  pointing  to  the  barang,  tell  them 
sternly  in  Malay,  to  carry  it  up  out  of  reach 
of  the  tide.  The  middle  one  draws  himself  up 
proudly  at  this  and  again  points  to  the  wreck 
of  the  Nautilus,  saying,  "Uhumen!"  Again  we 
indi'cate  the  barang  and  order  it  carried  up  the 
beach.  The  others  in  the  grass  have  risen  now 
and  are  watching  intently  but  in  silence  the  action 
of  their  chiefs. 

The  first  rule  in  dealing  with  the  native  is 
never  to  allow  him  to  disobey  the  orders  of  a 
white  man,  and  we  have  given  an  order.  It 
must  be  carried  out.     Once  more  we  command 


76      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

them  to  move  the  barang,  stepping  close  to  the 
middle  chief,  who  seems  to  be  in  authority.  He 
refuses  for  them  all.  The  time  for  action  has 
come.  He  receives  a  forceful  blow  on  the  point 
of  his  jaw;  without  a  sound  he  goes  down.  His 
six-foot  body  stretches  out  full-length  on  the 
sand,  lies  quiet  for  the  moment;  then,  his  senses 
slowly  returning,  he  rises  painfully  and,  cower- 
ing before  us,  goes  to  the  pile  of  barang,  selects 
the  lightest  of  the  pieces,  carries  it  to  a  spot  we 
designate,  and  deposits  it  there.  Then  he  turns 
to  the  others  and  calls  to  them  to  come  and  assist 
him  with  the  work. 

We  do  not  miderstand  the  meaning  of  his 
words  and  as  a  precautionary  measure  draw  our 
Colt  "forty-fives,"  ready  for  an  emergency.  The 
automatics  can  speak  a  rapid  language.  Spears 
and  war-clubs  are  not  much  of  a  match  for  them. 
We  know  the  natives  will  not  stand  against 
firearms.  At  the  fii*st  bark  of  the  heavy  pistols 
they  would  disappear  into  the  jungle,  never  to 
return. 

Moh  seems  to  have  vanished  and  we  turn  to 


SHIPWRECKED  77 

look  for  him.  There  he  is,  standing  so  close 
behind  us  that  he  is  hke  our  shadow.  His  face 
is  positively  green.  Poor  devil!  he  is  scared 
speechless !  With  the  safe  stowage  of  our  equip- 
ment we  stop  to  consider  for  a  moment.  The 
spot  we  are  now  on  is  well  above  the  reach  of 
the  tide  and  will  make  an  admirable  camp  site. 
It  is  far  enough  from  the  thick-growing  cocoa- 
nuts  to  render  us  safe  from  surprise  attack.  We 
decide  to  pitch  the  tents  here. 

Since  our  first  show  of  authority  the  natives 
have  withdrawn  to  a  discreet  distance  and  are 
seated  cross-legged  in  the  sand,  intently  watch- 
ing our  preparations  for  camp-making.  They 
are  chattering  volubly  among  themselves,  though 
whether  in  anger  or  not,  we  cannot  tell.  Among 
our  boxes  we  come  to  a  carton  of  coarse  shag 
tobacco  which  has  been  broken  open  and  the  idea 
comes  that  it  might  not  be  amiss  to  make  them 
a  little  present  as  a  sort  of  friendship  offering. 

We  gather  up  an  armful  of  the  little  blue 
packages  and  walk  toward  the  savages  slowly. 
They  all  rise  to  their  feet  as  we  approach;  they 


78      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

are  not  quite  sure  of  our  intentions,  and  are  ready- 
to  fly  at  the  first  sign  of  trouble.  That  uncere- 
monious chastening  of  their  chief  in  the  face  of 
terrific  odds  has  instilled  in  them  a  wholesome 
awe  of  us. 

Conversation  is  difficult,  for  we  do  not  speak 
their  language.  After  a  time,  however,  we  seem 
to  make  our  intentions  understood,  and  a  smile 
appears  on  the  faces  of  some  of  them,  here  and 
there,  as  the  light  of  comprehension  bursts  upon 
them.  These  in  turn  tell  their  fellows,  and  soon 
broad  smiles  wreathe  the  faces  of  all,  even  includ- 
ing the  sober  face  of  the  chastened  one.  Their 
manner  becomes  almost  affable  and  we  walk 
slowly  around  the  semicircle,  passing  to  each  a 
package  of  the  shag.  None  of  them  thank  us, 
except  with  their  eyes,  but  all  of  them  immedi- 
ately devote  their  attention  to  the  packets,  tear- 
ing them  open  and  stuffing  whole  mouthfuls  of 
tobacco  into  cavernous  cheeks  that  distend  in 
funny  pouch-like  roundness,  reminding  us  of  the 
monkeys  we  saw  six  months  ago  on  the  sacred 
island  in  the  Queen  River  in  Borneo. 


SHIPWRECKED  79 

With  the  gift  of  the  tobacco  we  seem  to  have 
acquired  membership  in  their  clan  and  they 
cluster  around  us  in  apparent  friendliness,  much 
to  our  discomfort.  One  and  all  are  besmeared 
with  rancid  cocoanut-oil  mixed  with  various 
earth  pigments,  and  the  odor  is  terrific.  This 
will  never  do,  we  tell  ourselves,  and  we  motion 
them  to  withdraw  a  little.  They  are  obedient 
and  return  to  the  place  where  they  were  sitting 
before.  They  are  about  twenty  yards  from  the 
spot  where  the  boys  are  erecting  the  tents.  This 
is  a  sufficient  distance  for  comfort,  so  we  take  up 
pieces  of  driftwood  and,  beginning  at  the  grass- 
line  of  the  beach,  draw  a  circle  in  the  sand 
around  the  tents.  This,  we  inform  them  by 
means  of  signs,  is  the  dead-line  and  none  may 
pass  it  without  permission.  They  all  nod  in  com- 
prehension. 

Mob  regards  us  with  reverential  awe.  They 
cannot  be  kept  too  far  away  to  suit  him.  He 
knows  better  than  we  that  the  Kia  Kias  are  not 
to  be  trusted  too  far.  They  may  be  friendly  one 
moment  and  the  very  next  turn  upon  one  un- 


80      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

aware.  He  tells  us  so,  and  with  the  warning 
comes  the  adjurations  of  our  friends  in  jMerauke. 
A  little  precaution  will  not  be  amiss,  we  decide, 
and  our  rifles  are  placed  within  reach,  ready  for 
instant  use.  Our  automatics  are  om*  constant 
companions.  Somehow,  though,  it  all  seems  un- 
necessary. We  have  done,  and  intend  them,  no 
wrong. 

The  incoming  tide  is  playing  havoc  with  the 
Nautilus.  Great  combers  are  breaking  over  her 
rail  on  the  weather  side  and  she  is  careening 
drunkenly,  her  masts  canted  over  at  a  sharp 
angle.  Ula  and  the  men  depart  for  her,  to  sal- 
vage what  they  can  before  she  slides  off  the  reef 
into  deep  water. 

When  they  return  they  bring  two  bags  of 
water-soaked  rice  which  they  have  rescued  from 
the  schooner's  hold.  They  report  that  she  is  a 
total  loss  and  can  never  be  saved.  The  coral  has 
torn  a  gaping  hole  in  her  bottom  and  the  plank- 
ing, including  the  keelson,  is  cioished  beyond  re- 
pair. The  outlook  is  not  pleasant.  When  we 
ask  Ula  how  soon  some  Malay  trading-schooner 


ISeated  at  a  disLrcci  di.-taiiLC',  waU-liing  uiir  canip-niaking  intently 


There  had  been  a  disagreement  in  the  village 


SHIPWRECKED  81 

is  likely  to  happen  along,  he  cheerfully  informs 
us  that  this  is  the  storm  season  and  that  one  may 
not  make  this  part  of  the  coast  for  months. 

We  look  at  each  other  blankly  for  a  moment 
and  then  laugh.  We  were  looking  for  adventure, 
were  n't  we  ?  Well,  we  have  it.  We  shall  have 
ample  time  to  study  the  cannibals  at  home.  Our 
opportunity  could  not  be  better,  but  we  wonder — 
Oh,  well,  when  in  doubt — dine! 

Moh  is  nonplussed  at  our  decision.  To  dine 
we  must  have  water.  Where  to  get  it  worries 
him.  He  has  visions  of  himself  going  to  some 
lonely  water-hole  back  in  the  jungle,  with  steal- 
thy Kia  Kias  creeping  up  on  him,  mouths  water- 
ing in  anticipation,  to  jerk  him  hence.  His  face 
is  positively  pitiful  as  he  looks  at  us  and  says: 

"Tuan,  ini  tida  ayer  minum.  [Master,  there 
is  no  drinking-water.]" 

We  allay  his  fears,  for  we  tell  him  that  we  will 
go  with  him  to  find  it,  and,  taking  one  of  the 
natives  for  a  guide,  we  set  out  to  find  it.  It  is 
always  plentiful  in  the  jungle,  for  there  are 
numberless    little    brooks    threading    the    deep 


82      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

silences  of  the  thickets  not  far  from  the  shore-line. 
A  hundred  yards  from  the  camp  we  come  upon  a 
small  stream  from  which  we  fill  the  buckets,  and 
JNIoh  soon  has  dinner  mider  way.  As  night 
faUs  we  mount  guard  in  turns  of  four  hours  on 
and  four  off.  We  are  under  constant  attack 
while  on  dut}%  for  the  mosquitos  swarm  upon 
us  in  clouds.  With  the  help  of  veils,  gloves,  and 
choking  smudge  we  worry  through  our  respec- 
tive watches. 

Moh  does  not  sleep  at  all  the  first  night,  but 
sits  in  the  drifting  smoke  of  the  burning  cocoa 
husks  in  downcast  self -commiseration.  We  can- 
not quite  make  out  why  he  left  happy  Java  to 
come  on  a  fool  trip  like  this.  He  thinlvs  all 
Americans  are  crazy,  for  they  do  not  seem  to 
know  fear.  He  keeps  the  coflPee-pot  working 
for  us  and  fills  the  lamp  once  when  the  gasolene 
runs  low.  The  mantle-lamp,  hanging  between 
the  tents  and  the  forest,  throws  a  white  glare 
over  the  camp  site.  We  are  burning  it  for  two 
reasons:  it  lights  up  the  jungle  approach  to 
the  camp  and  draws  the  myriad  insects  to  its 


SHIPWRECKED  83 

killing  heat  in  swarms.  Thus  we  shall  be  warned 
of  the  approach  of  danger  and  at  the  same  time, 
to  some  extent,  rid  of  the  pests.  When  on  guard 
we  keep  in  the  shadow  of  a  board  from  a  pack- 
ing-case placed  between  us  and  the  lamp,  so  that 
the  light  may  not  blind  us  with  its  glare. 

The  murmur  of  the  surf  seems  to  whisper  to 
us  of  lurking  dangers  and  the  night  is  eery  with 
unaccustomed  sounds  that  come  from  the  jungle. 
As  the  breeze  stirs  the  fronds  of  the  cocoas  they 
rasp  together.  Now  and  then  a  falling  nut 
thumps  to  the  ground  with  startling  abruptness. 
Each  sound  is  magnified  by  our  nervous  expect- 
ancy, until  the  night  becomes  hideous  with 
sounds  and  the  grotesque  shadows  the  ferns  cast 
in  the  lamplight  move  weirdly  to  and  fro  like 
creeping  savages.  More  than  once  we  sit  bolt 
upright  with  rifles  tightly  clutched  as  some 
shadow  takes  on  a  human  shape  or  moves  slowly 
toward  us.  The  rising  moon  casts  a  wan  half- 
light  over  the  scene,  for  it  is  in  its  last  quarter. 
The  scene  is  one  of  indescribable  beauty  and 
never-to-be-forgotten  tensity.     Even  the  crew  of 


84      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

the  Nautilus  are  crouched  around  a  tiny  smudge 
of  their  own,  wide  awake  and  silent.  The  air 
is  surcharged  with  an  electric  expectancy;  the 
darkness  a  malign  mantle  of  doubt.  How  the 
hours  drag,  and  how  we  wish  for  dawn? 


Those  wlio  fiiik'd  to  got  a  package  caiui'  to  the  deadline  and  asked 

for  one 


J  hey   iiia\    lie  liiiiii|l\    ,il   otic   HKiniiiil    :iii(l    Imii    uimii   uiic   llic    \iiy 

IU\t 


CHAPTER  VII 

We  Establish  Diplomatic  Relations 

SHALL  we  ever  forget  that  sunrise  and  how 
the  glow  in  the  east  chased  the  pregnant 
shadows?  Never!  We  are  not  afraid,  that  is, 
afraid  in  the  usual  sense  of  the  term.  If  the 
natives  had  attacked  us  we  should  have  joyously 
risen  to  the  occasion  and  put  JNIr.  Colt  to  the 
fore  to  argue  for  us.  It  was  the  suspense 
we  minded.  Those  things  which  we  can  see 
and  gage  with  our  full  consciousness  never  bother 
us.  It  is  the  unseen  and  mysterious  that  we 
dread.  When  one  does  not  know  what  to  expect, 
nor  from  which  direction  the  danger  may  come, 
it  is  the  nerve  tension,  the  high-keyed  alertness, 
that  saps  the  system  of  its  reserve  stamina  and 
makes  the  goose-flesh  crawl  along  the  spine  at 
the  slightest  unidentified  sound.  It  is  the  in- 
tangible,   the    unseen,    the    insidious    stealthy 

86 


86      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

danger  that  creeps  upon  one  unawares,  that 
strikes  in  the  dark  where  one  is  unable  to  strike 
in  return,  that  make  the  night  vigil  nerve-rack- 
ing. Genial  old  Imagination  creates  dangers 
that  do  not  exist.  Dawn  is  welcome  to  the 
watcher,  always,  but  doubly  so  when  one  is  liter- 
ally between  covetous  devils  and  the  deep  sea. 

To  control,  one  must  gather  things  into  the 
grip  of  one's  own  hands.  One  must  take  the 
initiative;  therefore,  we  shall  go  early  this  morn- 
ing to  the  kampong.  We  are  just  making 
ready  the  things  we  shall  need  while  away  from 
camp  when  there  drifts  to  us  on  the  fresh  breeze 
a  wild  cadence  which  quickens  the  pulse. 
Whether  it  is  war-cry  or  song  of  welcome  we  do 
not  know,  but  it  sounds  ominous  to  our  unaccus- 
tomed ears,  at  any  rate.  Our  heads  pop  out 
from  the  tents  concerto,  much  like  those  of  the 
impossible  policemen  of  the  movies,  and  our 
eyes  pop  also  at  what  we  see.  In  the  distance 
comes  the  gang.  They  are  making  their  way 
toward  our  camp  with  considerable  esprit  de 
corps,  weapons  wildly  waving  and  throats  roar- 


DIPLOMATIC  RELATIONS         87 

ing.  This  will  bear  looking  into,  we  feel,  and 
the  Colts  are  loosened  tentatively  in  their  hol- 
sters. As  the  savages  draw  near  we  heave  a 
sigh  or  two  of  relief,  for  we  realize  that  this  at 
least  is  not  The  JNIoment. 

Those  who  are  not  yelling  at  the  top  of  their 
leather  lungs  are  laughing  and  they  come  to  a 
walk  as  they  approach  our  sacred  demesne. 
Obedient  to  our  instructions  of  yesterday,  they 
halt  at  the  furrow  in  the  sand  that  marks  the 
limits  of  our  arm's-length  hospitality  and  stand 
there  like  a  throng  of  spoiling-for-something 
children.  We  advance  to  meet  them  and  they 
chatter  volubly  at  us  and  hold  out  their  hands 
as  though  demanding  something.  One  of  them, 
who  evidently  has  heard  the  Malay  traders  name 
the  weed  in  his  own  tongue,  asks — or,  rather, 
shouts, — "Rocco!"  which  is  Malay  for  "tobacco." 
It  is  the  old  familiar  "rush  act"  that  they  are 
giving  us  and  we  are  too  much  relieved  at  their 
unwarlike  attitude  to  refuse  them. 

The  open  carton  is  dragged  out  with  despatch 
and  each  of  the  natives  is  presented  with  one 


88      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

blue  package.  The  black  men  cavort  around 
like  a  lot  of  exuberant  school-boys  while  await- 
ing their  turn  to  receive  the  little  present. 
Finally  they  begin  to  cluster  too  close  and  as  the 
task  of  distributing  the  tobacco  becomes  difficult 
and  contact  with  greasy,  smelly  arms  and  clutch- 
ing hands  inevitable,  we  toss  the  remaining 
packets  over  the  heads  of  the  nearer  ones  and 
there  ensues  a  wild  scramble. 

Many  of  them  lose  out  in  the  melee  and  must 
do  without,  while  many  have  received  two  por- 
tions. Those  who  fail  to  get  any  come  to  the 
dead-line  and  with  hands  outstretched  ask  for 
some,  but  this  we  refuse.  They  must  be  taught 
decorum.  They  hang  around  for  a  time  and 
finally  drift  away  in  the  direction  of  the  kam- 
pong,  where  their  more  successful  brothers  have 
gone.  Some  of  them  seem  to  be  much  put  out, 
and  we  turn  over  in  our  minds  the  advisability 
of  calling  them  back  and  giving  each  a  package 
of  tobacco.  A  moment's  consideration,  how- 
ever, convinces  us  that  this  would  be  an  admis- 
sion of  weakness  and  would  be  taken  advantage 


DIPLOMATIC  RELATIONS         89 

of  later.  When  the  white  man  has  concluded  a 
matter  he  must  let  the  native  know  that  it  is 
settled  for  all  time. 

When  the  last  of  the  cannibals  has  departed 
and  we  reenter  our  tent  to  conclude  our  prepa- 
rations for  the  visit  to  the  kampong  we  encoun- 
ter Moh.  With  the  coming  of  the  howling  crew 
of  savages  he  dived  into  the  tent  to  hide,  and  he 
now  crawls  from  beneath  a  cot  as  nearly  white 
as  his  olive  skin  will  permit. 

Moh  believed  this  to  be  his  last  hour  on  earth 
and  he  tried  to  prolong  the  agony  by  hiding. 
He  is  speechless  with  fright,  for  he  could  hear 
the  racket  outside  the  tent,  but  could  not  see 
what  was  transpiring.  N'ever,  never  again  will 
he  leave  his  fair  home  in  Java  to  go  adventuring 
with  Americans!  His  cup  is  brimming  over 
and  his  voice,  when  it  returns,  quavers  in  a  fal- 
setto ecstasy  of  trepidation.  As  a  fighting- 
man,  Moh  is  a  good  cook.     That  suffices. 

Our  march  to  the  kampong  is  one  of  many 
thrills.  The  natives  whom  we  believed  to  have 
returned  to  the  village  have  simply  withdrawn 


90      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

to  the  screening  jungle  and  from  its  cover  watch 
us  with  none  too  friendly  interest.  They  do 
not  like  the  idea  of  our  visit,  for  their  women 
are  in  the  village  and  they  are  not  sure  that 
we  may  not  take  a  liking  to  some  of  them  and 
carry  them  off.  This  has  been  done  in  times 
past  by  other  white  men  in  other  kampongs  and 
for  all  we  know  may  have  been  done  right  here. 
Our  purpose  in  coming  to  their  country  is,  of 
course,  inexplicable  to  the  savages  and  nec- 
essarily we  are  objects  of  great  distrust. 

Now  and  then  we  see  shadows  flitting  noise- 
lessly from  tree  trunk  to  thick -growing  shrub- 
bery as  they  follow  our  course  and  twice  we 
encounter  stalwart  warriors  standing  like  sen- 
tinels near  the  pathway  as  though  disdainful  of 
concealment.  These,  as  we  smilingly  addi'css 
them,  merely  grunt  a  non-committal  reply  and 
glower  at  us  through  narrowed  lids.  As  we 
pass  them  they  withdraw  into  the  un(lergro^vth, 
to  travel  silently  abreast  of  us  but  well  out  of 
sight. 

When  we  finally  step  out  of  the  dimness  of 


DIPLOMATIC  RELATIONS        91 

the  jungle  into  the  clearing  of  the  kampong  we 
find  an  apparently  deserted  village.  News  of 
our  coming  has  preceded  us,  and  all  the  inhab- 
itants are  hiding  indoors.  One  glance  down  the 
little  street  shows  us  that  the  kampong  is  dif- 
ferent from  the  one  we  visited  at  Merauke.  This 
one  consists  of  five  low  shacks  each  of  which  is 
tenanted  by  several  families,  and  it  has  no  en- 
closing wall.  Each  house  is  similar  to  its  neigh- 
bor and  measures  roughly,  one  would  say,  fifty 
feet  in  length  by  twenty  in  width.  The  side 
walls  must  be  seven  or  eight  feet  in  height  and 
the  roof  rises  to  a  ridge  about  fifteen  feet  above 
the  gi'ound.  Centrally  located  in  the  street  end 
of  the  house  is  the  only  door  of  which  it  boasts, 
and  perched  above  and  around  this  dark  open- 
ing are  grisly  reminders  of  deceased  foemen  who 
have  passed  beyond  via  the  roasting-pit.  Over 
each  of  the  doorways  hang  the  skulls  of  several 
human  beings,  interspersed  with  those  of  croc- 
odiles that  the  braves  of  the  household  have  killed 
in  their  hunting-excursions. 

Before  the  first  of  the  shacks  a  short,  forked 


92      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

sapling  is  planted  and  from  each  of  the  lopped- 
off  branches  of  the  fork  there  grins  at  us  in  loose- 
jawed  mockery  a  sun-bleached  reminder  that 
the  Kia  Kias  are  a  people  of  perverted  taste. 
As  we  near  the  entrance  of  this  dwelling  w^e  are 
gi'ceted  by  a  savage  whom  we  do  not  remember 
having  seen  before.  He  is  clad  in  the  conven- 
tional nothingness,  but  is  adorned  with  the  gay- 
est of  feathered  headgear.  He  carries  two 
throwing-spears  and  a  dainty  stone  mace  that 
would  cause  complete  anaesthesia  in  an  elephant. 
That  stone  war-club  in  the  hands  of  a  boy  of 
sixteen  would  spoil  a  whole  day  for  us,  if  he 
could  wield  it,  but  in  the  hands  of  the  six-foot 
savage  who  fashioned  it  for  real  use  it  is  pos- 
itively ruinous. 

The  black  man  greets  us  with  a  grunt.  That 
grunt  may  mean  anything,  we  tell  ourselves,  and 
proceed  to  translate  it  as  one  of  friendliness  and 
welcome.  By  means  of  the  sign  language  we 
endeavor  to  convey  the  fact  that  we  are  come 
as  friends  and  are  paying  oin*  duty  call  in  return 
for  the  kindly  interest  shown  us  only  this  morn- 


We  made  presents  of  tin  je\velry  to  the  natives^  but  what  they 
wanted  was  tobacco 


Feathered  liead-drcssCs  moving  through  the  tall  gras.s  told  u.s  of 
the  natives  watching  our  progress  toward  the  kampong 


DIPLOMATIC  RELATIONS        93 

ing.  During  our  Delsarte  exercises  others  of 
the  clan  approach  to  gaze  at  us  with  suspicious 
eyes,  and  INIoh,  who  carries  the  cameras  and  a 
box  of  tin  trinkets  intended  for  the  women, 
draws  closer  to  our  heels. 

Evidently  our  meaning  becomes  clear  to  them, 
for  they  unbend  a  little  and  a  smile  flits  over 
some  of  the  paint-besmeared  visages  that  now 
surround  us.  We  have  come  to  make  some 
presents  to  the  women,  for  they  rule  the  kam- 
pongs,  but  just  now  they  are  nowhere  in  sight. 
We  ask  for  them,  and  loud  chatter  ensues.  At 
first  the  men  seem  a  little  dubious  as  to  our  inten- 
tions, but  by  showing  them  a  package  of  tobacco 
and  indicating  that  they  have  already  tasted  of 
our  generosity  we  make  them  understand  that 
we  merely  wish  to  present  the  women  with  a 
token  of  our  good-will. 

One  of  the  crowd  is  despatched  by  the  chief  to 
round  up  the  timorous  females  and  after  some 
delay  they  appear,  huddled  in  a  hand-holding 
group,  at  the  other  end  of  the  village,  which  end 
they  firmly  refuse  to  leave.     It  is  beneath  the 


94      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

dignity  of  a  white  man  to  go  to  the  native,  so 
we  simply  stand  and  wait,  though  w^ith  apparent 
annoyance.  The  chief — or,  as  they  call  him, 
kapala  kampong — senses  that  we  are  somewhat 
miffed  at  the  reluctance  of  the  women  and  takes 
things  into  his  own  hands.  Turning  toward  the 
women,  he  bellows  to  them  to  come  immediately. 
The  commands  of  the  chief  in  matters  of  this 
kind  seem  to  carry  some  weight,  for  the  women 
saunter  in  our  direction,  trying  to  appear  coyly 
indifferent,  but  probably  scared.  FinaDy,  when 
they  have  entered  the  circle  of  men  which  opens 
to  receive  them,  we  break  the  silence  and  turn 
to  Moh  with  a  request  for  the  box  of  trinkets. 
In  it  are  gold-washed  bracelets  and  chains  that 
glitter  enticingly  in  the  sunlight,  and  we  expect 
the  women  to  break  into  cries  of  extreme  delight 
when  we  open  it.  We  are  not  a  little  surprised, 
as  we  display  the  contents,  at  the  utter  lack  of 
enthusiasm;  even  when  we  go  so  far  as  to  place 
the  necklaces  upon  them,  the  women  merelj'^ 
regard  the  trinkets  with  mild  curiosity. 

Our  little  couj)  dc  mnitrc  has  fallen  flat,  so  to 


DIPLOMATIC  RELATIONS        95 

speak.  One  of  the  dusky  damsels  relieves  the  sit- 
uation for  us.  She  is  inclined  to  be  forward, 
but  this  we  do  not  think  of  censuring,  for  it  saves 
the  day.  She  says  in  very  good  Malay,  ''Ada 
rocco?"  It  is  tobacco  they  want.  Luckily,  we 
have  a  little  with  us  and  when  it  is  distributed 
among  the  ladies,  who  immediately  fill  their 
mouths  with  it,  diplomatic  relations  are  opened. 
They  seem  ready  to  entertain  almost  any 
proposal,  within  reason,  that  we  may  make.  We 
seize  the  opportunity  to  impress  upon  them  that 
as  long  as  we  are  their  guests  and  are  treated 
as  such,  each  member  of  the  tribe  will  receive 
his  or  her  daily  ration  of  tobacco.  All  this  pala- 
ver, carried  on  as  it  is  in  the  sign  language,  takes 
time,  but  the  savages  seem  to  catch  our  meaning 
with  increasing  facility.  Yes,  we  are  getting 
along  famously.  We  even  essay  the  making  of 
a  photograph  or  two,  but  the  cameras  are 
regarded  with  suspicion,  so  we  desist  and  let  the 
matter  rest  until  we  shall  have  become  better 
acquainted.  There  will,  no  doubt,  be  plenty  of 
time  for  picture-taking. 


96      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

With  a  sweeping  gesture,  we  indicate  the  rest 
of  the  kampong,  and  the  chief,  not  to  be  outdone 
in  generosity,  gives  us  the  key  to  the  city  by 
means  of  an  all-embracing  wave  of  his  arm. 
This  is  as  it  should  be,  and  we  thank  him,  with 
a  "we-expected-as-much"  air,  and  proceed  to  in- 
spect the  entire  place.  In  fact,  the  only  one  of 
us  who  does  not  seem  to  be  quite  at  ease  is  Moh. 
He  is  having  a  bad  day. 


Twice  we  encounter  stalwart  warriors  standintj  like  sentinels,  as 
thoiiffli  disdainful  of  concealment 


The  bvd^  J.-  |il.Mr(.|  III  ;i  L-illiii;;  jid-itinn  iittci  ht'iny  ^aily  decorated 
for   till'    fuiHTiiI 


CHAPTER  VIII 

We  Take  up  Quarters  in  the  Kampong 

OUR  first  visit  has  turned  out  so  well  and 
the  natives  seem  so  friendly  that  there 
seems  to  be  no  reason  why  we  should  not  move 
camp  so  as  to  be  near  them  and  thus  save  a  long 
hike  through  the  jungle  every  time  we  wish  to 
see  them.  A  walk  thi'ough  the  jungle  is  the 
occasion  of  a  fight  with  mosquitos,  particularly 
at  this  time  of  year,  February,  which  is  the  begin- 
ning of  the  rainy  season.  With  the  assistance 
of  several  of  the  younger  men  we  transfer  our 
belongings  from  the  beach  to  the  kampong  and 
settle  down  for  a  long  visit.  This  kampong  is 
as  good  as  any  to  study  the  natives  in  and  the 
inhabitants  seem  fairly  trustworthy. 

Our  tent  is  placed,  this  time,  between  two  of 
the  large  family  shacks,  and  after  a  day  or  two 

97 


98      THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

we  begin  to  feel  quite  at  home.  The  natives  do 
not  interfere  with  us,  and  as  we  are  careful  not 
to  impose  upon  them,  all  is  well.  The  first  night 
of  our  stay  in  the  kampong  is  one  of  sadness  for 
the  natives,  we  find,  for  one  of  their  very  old 
men  has  passed  away  in  its  course.  He  has  been 
ailing  a  long  time,  thej'^  tell  us,  and  it  has 
surprised  them  all  that  he  should  last  so  long. 
They  are  very  much  like  civilized  people  in  the 
affection  they  appear  to  feel  for  any  sick  or  ailing 
member  of  their  immediate  family. 

We  stumble  upon  a  Kia  Kia  mourning  party 
quite  unexpectedly.  When  one  of  these  people 
dies  the  body  is  placed  in  a  sitting  posture  in  the 
spot  where  death  overtook  him,  if  that  is  in  the 
house,  and  his  nearest  relatives  decorate  him  with 
fresh  paint  and  feathers.  There  is  no  wailing 
wliile  the  body  is  kept  in  the  house.  One  or  two 
members  of  his  family  hold  a  vigil  beside  him 
and  fan  the  flies  away,  while  others  go  to  the 
burial  ground  to  prepare  the  grave.  This  is 
usually  about  six  feet  deep,  but  as  the  body  must 
he  phiced  within  it  seated  there  is  a  shelf  built 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  KAMPONG     99 

two  feet  from  the  bottom  on  which  the  deceased 
rests.  When  the  grave  is  ready — and  its  prep- 
aration may  consmiie  three  or  four  days — the 
body  is  transferred  to  it  with  much  solemnity. 
The  grave  is  not  filled  with  earth,  but  a  frame- 
work covered  with  a  heavy  thatch  of  palm-leaves 
is  placed  over  the  dead  and  the  earth  is  piled  to 
a  depth  of  two  feet  on  that.  As  the  body  is 
lowered  into  the  grave  the  relatives  begin  a 
quavering  chant  and  all  present  seem  to  feel 
deeply  the  loss  of  their  kinsman. 

They  surround  their  burial  places  with  strong 
fences,  for  if  any  one  were  to  walk  across  a  grave 
he  must  inevitably  break  through  its  thin,  ill- 
supported  top,  which  would  be  disconcerting,  to 
say  the  least.  One  of  our  neighbor's  pigs,  an 
exceptionally  large  and  heav}^  one,  one  day 
wanders  into  the  cemetery  and,  judging  from  the 
howl  of  wrath  that  ensues,  raises  havoc  in  the 
graveyard.  At  any  rate,  when  the  noise  has 
quieted  down,  the  pig  is  dead,  and  for  some 
reason  it  is  buried  in  the  grave  it  has  just  de- 
spoiled. 


100    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

The  death  of  the  old  man  casts  a  gloom  over 
the  entire  kampong  and  for  a  few  days  we  leave 
the  inhabitants  to  their  own  devices.  The  few 
kodak  pictures  we  have  snapped  aroused  their 
resentment  to  such  an  extent  that  we  have  decided 
discretion  to  be  the  better  part  of  destitution. 
We  fill  diaries,  these  days,  with  notes  of  happen- 
ings observed  from  a  discreet  distance. 

One  of  the  things  that  comes  to  our  notice  is 
the  way  the  women  gather  cocoanuts.  When 
the  family  larder  is  low,  one  of  the  men  will  call 
the  attention  of  one  of  the  women  to  the  fact  and 
she  dutifully  prepares  to  replenish  the  stock. 
Her  preparations  are  interesting.  It  is  a  consid- 
erable distance  straight  up  in  the  air  to  the 
crown  of  a  full-bearing  cocoanut-palm,  and  the 
nuts  cluster  well  up  in  the  lower  fronds  about 
forty  feet  from  the  ground.  The  tapering  trunk 
offers  a  good  grip  for  the  legs  and  one  could 
climb  it  easily  by  simply  clasping  the  legs  about 
it  after  the  fashion  of  our  own  boyhood,  but  the 
Kia  Kia  has  a  method  all  his  own. 
When  about  to  ascend  the  trunk,  the  woman 


The  native  climbs  a  coeoanut-palm  in  a  series  of  humps  and 
stretches,   like  a  giant  inch-worm 


flaking  lire.     A  piece  of  hard  wood   is  rotated  by  hand  while  iu 
contact  with  a  softer  piece 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  KAMPONG    101 

first  gathers  a  bunch  of  long  grass  which  she 
twists  into  a  rope  and  ties  snugly  about  her 
ankles.  This  done,  the  feet  are  placed  against 
the  trunk  of  the  palm,  with  the  soles  gripping 
it,  while  the  gi*ass  binding  on  the  ankles  serves  as 
the  fulcrum  of  a  lever  of  which  the  lower  leg 
forms  the  long  end.  The  legs  are  bowed  out- 
ward so  that  with  set  muscles  a  surprising  grip 
is  obtained.  With  the  feet  in  this  position,  the 
arms  grasp  the  trunk  and  lift  the  body  upward 
six  or  eight  inches  and  the  legs  are  drawn  up  to 
a  higher  position.  In  this  manner  the  native 
proceeds  upward  like  a  great  inchworm,  in  a 
series  of  humps  and  stretches.  When  the  top 
is  reached  one  hand  only  is  clasped  around  the 
trunk,  while  the  other  twists  the  nuts  off  their 
stems.  This  is  done  by  merely  grasping  the 
lower  surface  of  the  nut  and  rotating  it  until  the 
fibers  of  the  stem  are  broken.  The  nut  is  then 
allowed  to  drop  to  the  ground,  where  it  lands 
with  a  thud  and  a  bounce  that  make  one  shudder 
at  the  thought  of  what  it  might  do  were  it  to 
land  squarely  upon  one's  head.     When  a  sufR- 


102    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

cient  number  of  ripe  nuts  are  gathered,  the 
woman  descends  the  trunk  much  as  she  climbed 
upward,  though  this  seems  to  be  a  more  arduous 
undertaking.  Apparently,  however,  this  is  due 
to  fatigue  rather  than  to  the  actual  difficulty  of 
climbing  down,  for  these  people  have  no  stamina 
and  seem  to  tire  quickly. 

The  cocoanut  supplies  both  food  and  drink  to 
the  Kia  Kia.  True,  he  eats  many  other  things, 
but  the  flesh  of  this  fruit  is  the  great  staple,  the 
others  being  sago  cake,  surf-fish,  wild  pig,  bush 
kangaroo,  and  "long  pig"  (human  flesh) ,  the  use 
of  each  being  in  ratio  to  the  order  named.  When 
a  Kia  Kia  is  thirsty  he  goes  to  the  pile  of  nuts 
beside  the  house  and  selects  one  that  appeals  to 
him,  walks  to  a  shady  place,  and  leisurely  sits 
down.  He  places  the  nut  between  his  feet, 
which  are  drawn  well  against  the  body,  and  with 
a  deft  blow  of  his  stone  war-club  breaks  the  thick 
husk  at  the  small  end  of  the  nut.  This  he  grips 
in  his  teeth  and  peels  off,  holding  the  nut  between 
his  palms,  with  his  elbows  raised.  After  the 
husk  is  removed  one  blow  of  tlie  chib  opens  the 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  KAMPONG    103 

end  of  the  nut  and  the  cool  water  is  attainable. 

The  Kia  Kias  do  not  drink.  That  is,  they  do 
not  drink  in  the  sense  that  we  use  the  term. 
When  a  Kia  Kia  desires  water,  he  wants  it  in 
sufficient  volume  to  wet  his  throat  and  stomach 
at  one  and  the  same  instant,  so  he  simply  throws 
back  his  head,  opens  his  gullet,  and  without 
swallowing  lets  the  fluid  run  in  and  down.  It 
goes  down  in  one  continuous  stream.  Nowhere 
in  the  world  can  one  see  a  similar  operation.  It 
is  absolutely  unique  and  all  Kia  Kias  have  the 
same  drinking — let  us  call  it  technique. 

Their  sago  is  prepared  in  a  simple  manner. 
The  palm  from  which  the  starch  is  derived  is 
indigenous  to  their  jungles,  and  we  are  told  that 
one  large  trunk  of,  say,  two-foot  thickness  and 
twenty-foot  length  will  supply  food  for  four 
persons  for  a  year.  When  sago  is  to  be  prepared 
a  palm  is  felled  and  the  pithy  center  is  scraped 
from  it,  macerated  with  pestles,  and  soaked  in 
water.  The  water  dissolves  the  starch  content 
and,  when  evaporated,  leaves  the  starch  ready 
for  immediate  consumption. 


104    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

The  moist  starch  is  molded  into  cakes  which 
are  dried  bone-dry,  and  in  this  form  it  seems  to 
keep  indefinitely.  In  preparation  for  eating,  the 
cake  is  simply  softened  with  water  and  toasted 
over  a  fire  until  cooked  sufficiently  to  suit  the 
individual  taste.  With  the  exception  of  the 
surf-fish,  the  other  articles  of  Kia  Kia  diet  are 
seldom  eaten  except  on  some  special  occasion,  as 
at  a  feast.  The  surf -fish  are  gathered  with  each 
full  tide,  but  of  course  only  the  natives  on  the 
sea-coast  get  these.  They  are  always  cooked, 
never  eaten  raw.  In  fact,  the  Kia  Kias  eat 
everything  but  cocoanut  cooked,  and  even  cook 
that  sometimes. 

The  heads  of  enemies,  both  animal  and  human, 
are  kept  as  trophies  denoting  the  prowess  of  the 
hunter  or  warrior.  Boar  tusks  are  made  into 
armlets,  and  the  greatness  of  a  liunter  is  easily 
determined  by  the  number  of  these  that  adorn 
his  arms.  In  the  case  of  a  human  enemy  the 
head  is  severed  from  the  body  and  smoked  after 
the  brains  have  been  removed.  It  is  kept  care- 
fully, within  the  house  of  tlie  man  wlio  collected 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  KAMPONG    105 

it,  until  the  ravages  of  time  and  multitudinous 
insects  have  removed  the  last  remaining  traces  of 
dried  flesh  from  it,  and  it  then  becomes  a  mural 
decoration  for  the  house  or  graces  the  doorway 
of  the  shack.  In  the  case  of  the  human  enemy 
the  body  is  always  eaten;  that  is,  when  the 
feast  can  be  compassed  with  no  great  danger  of 
news  of  the  orgy  coming  to  the  ears  of  the  pun- 
ishing white  men  who  rule  the  country.  These 
feasts  are  becoming  increasingly  infrequent,  but 
cannibalism  still  exists  and  perhaps  a  dozen  cases 
yearly  are  brought  to  the  attention  of  the  author- 
ities. For  each  of  the  cases  that  come  to  the 
notice  of  the  Assistant  in  Merauke  there  are 
many  that  never  come  to  light,  for  the  natives 
have  held  them  in  great  secrecy  of  late. 

The  skulls  of  deceased  foemen  sometimes 
litter  up  the  place  to  such  an  extent  that  the 
children  play  with  them  as  with  toys,  and  one 
little  black  rascal — the  son  of  the  chief,  by  the 
way — seems  to  take  a  particular  dehght  in  hear- 
ing his  mother  describe  the  affrays  in  which  his 
father  collected  them.     We  are  so  fortunate  as 


106    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

to  get  a  snap-shot  of  her  entertaining  the  young- 
ster in  this  way,  and  later  secure  one  of  the 
little  shaver  trying  to  pile  them  one  upon  the 
other,  like  one  of  our  kiddies  at  play  with  build- 
ing-blocks. He  is  so  engrossed  in  his  attempt 
to  balance  them  that  he  fails  to  notice  that  we 
are  taking  his  j^icture. 

As  the  savages  have  no  matches,  they  obtain 
fire  in  a  crude  but  very  practical  way.  It  takes 
several  of  them  to  do  it,  for  they  do  not  care  to 
exert  themselves  much.  In  a  piece  of  soft,  very 
dry  wood  they  make  a  small  indentation  into 
which  they  insert  the  point  of  a  thin,  round  stick 
of  ironwood  or  similar  hard,  close-grained  wood 
three  or  four  feet  in  length.  Holding  the  stick 
between  the  palms  of  their  hands,  they  rotate  it 
rapidly,  meanwhile  pressing  it  into  the  softer 
wood,  the  pulverized  fiber  of  which  finally  ignites 
from  the  friction.  When  the  wood  dust  is  smol- 
dering, small  bits  of  dried  tinder  are  piled 
around  it  and  the  whole  is  blown  gently  into 
flame.     The  operation  consumes  about  twenty 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  KAMPONG   107 

minutes  and  on  account  of  this  and  the  labor  in- 
volved their  household  fires  are  seldom  allowed 
to  go  out;  but  a  supply  of  the  soft  wood  is  kept 
on  hand  for  use  in  an  emergency. 

The  Kia  Kias  are  extremely  lazy,  we  find;  in 
many  little  ways  they  show  that  they  will  not 
exert  themselves  in  the  slightest  if  they  can 
avoid  doing  so.  If  one  of  them  is  walking  along 
and  happens  to  see  something  lying  on  the 
ground  that  he  desires,  will  he  stoop  to  pick  it 
up?  Never!  He  simply  grasps  the  object  be- 
tween his  great  and  second  toe  and  raises  the  foot 
to  his  hand,  and  he  does  it  gracefully,  never  los- 
ing his  poise  or  missing  his  stride. 

On  an  afternoon,  shortly  after  the  heat  of  mid- 
day, the  men  gather  in  the  shade  of  the  cocoas 
back  of  the  kampong  to  discuss  the  latest  scandal 
or  politics.  Inasmuch  as  the  kapala  kampong, 
or  chief,  holds  his  position  solely  by  the  suf- 
ferance of  the  others,  or  possibly  because  of  some 
trait  of  natural  leadership  inherent  in  him, 
changes  in  administration  frequently  occur. 
These  are  in  the  main  caused  by  the  chief's  form- 


108    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

ing  a  liaison  with  the  wife  or  daughter  of  another 
influential  member  of  the  tribe  without  giving 
sufficient  remuneration.  Then  the  fight  is  on. 
It  takes  the  form  of  lengthy  diatribes  by  the  in- 
jured party  and  much  muckraking.  The  daily 
papers  (the  ladies)  drop  in  to  listen  at  first  and 
then  monopolize  the  conversation,  as  is  the  gen- 
eral custom  elsewhere.  They  settle  the  argu- 
ment, for  they  get  in  the  last  word.  Here  in 
Kia  Kia  Land  the  women  literally  "run  the 
ranch."  It  behooves  the  aspirant  for  leadership 
to  stand  wxll  with  them,  for  in  the  end  it  is  their 
will  that  is  done.  The  only  thing  that  the 
women  have  not  been  successful  in  is  to  make 
the  men  work.  They  often  make  them  fight, 
but  it  is  much  easier  for  them  to  do  the  chores 
themselves  than  to  try  to  force  the  men  to  do 
them.  Hence,  all  Kia  Kia  men  are  gentlemen 
of  leisure. 

As  the  heat  is  almost  intolerable  under  our 
tent,  we,  too,  withdraw  to  the  gi*ateful  shade  of 
the  fringe  of  the  jungle,  and  they  clear  a 
space  for  us  most  genially.     There  is   a  little 


One  little  ft-llow  takes  ifieat  delifilit  in  hearing!:  his  mother  describe 
the  battles  in  which  his  father  collected  his  trophies 


AlliT   Ilic   liiiii    Ml    iiiii|il:i\    Ihc   men  ;jiillifi-    in    lli 
t  he  hitesl  scanchil  m    iiulitics 


i;h1('  to  discuss 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  KAMPONG     109 

group  of  them  sitting  on  our  left.  What  they 
are  doing  is  very  interesting.  They  are  eating 
dried  mud.  That 's  it, — just  plain  dried  mud. 
We  hardly  believe  it  when  first  it  comes  to  our 
notice,  but  upon  close  examination — and  invita- 
tion, too,  to  join  them — we  find  it  to  be  true. 
The  dirt  is  a  sort  of  heavy  yellow  clay,  of  which 
they  have  several  large  chunks.  From  time  to 
time  one  or  another  of  them  breaks  off  a  portion 
and  crumbles  off  pieces  the  size  of  a  thimble 
which  he  munches  with  apparent  relish.  The 
dogs,  of  which  there  are  many,  sit  within  the 
circle  of  the  group  and  with  hungry  eyes  watch 
the  proceedings.  They  refuse  the  clay  if  it  is 
offered  them,  but  continue  to  gaze  at  their  mas- 
ters just  as  though  they  thought  the  men  were 
fooling  them  and  were  in  reality  eating  some- 
thing palatable  to  the  canine  taste. 

The  clay  is  washed  down  with  copious  drafts 
of  cocoanut  water  taken  a  pint  at  a — well,  "irri- 
gation" is  the  only  word  that  seems  to  suit  the 
process.  In  response  to  our  stumbling  inquiries 
as  to  why  they  eat  dirt,  they  indicate  that  it  is 


110    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

bagoose,  or  good  for  them.  We  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  must  supply  some  mineral  sub- 
stance otherwise  lacking  in  their  diet. 

Some  of  the  men  are  busy  with  their  toilets. 
They  are  all  fops  when  it  comes  to  personal 
appearance.  Several  of  them  are  sitting  upon 
their  haunches  or  with  outstretched  legs,  with 
the  inner  lid  of  a  Malay  tobacco-box  held  up- 
right for  a  mirror,  busy  with  a  lip -stick  of  bam- 
boo upon  which  is  smeared  a  mixture  of  lime  and 
water.  This  they  spread  on  in  layers  of  varying 
thickness;  or,  if  the  whim  strikes  them,  they  will 
besoot  their  already  dusky  skin  with  black  and 
outhne  thereon  circles  composed  of  white  dots 
and  red  lines.  One  dandy,  who  has  been  lei- 
surely fashioning  a  rattan  handle  for  a  stone 
war-club  head,  pauses  in  his  labor  and  from  the 
wicker  basket  or  gauntlet  on  his  arm — which,  by 
the  way,  is  his  only  pocket — takes  a  small  pouch 
of  kangaroo  hide  containing  his  war-paint. 
This  is  yellow  ochre  in  its  native  state.  Break- 
ing off  a  fragment  of  it,  he  pulverizes  it  between 
his  palms,  then,  with  the  powder  heaped  equally 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  KAMPONG    111 

in  each  hand,  bends  over  in  the  manner  of  one 
about  to  wash  the  face  and  briskly  rubs  the  color 
over  his  entire  face  and  neck.  The  surplus  he 
blows  off  by  protuding  the  lower  lip  and  exhal- 
ing forcibly.  His  exertion  over  the  club  handle 
evidently  started  the  perspiration  and  this  is  his 
method  of  powdering  his  nose. 

One  Beau  Brummel  whom  we  dub  "Little 
Playmate"  for  lack  of  a  better  name,  because  he 
is  really  such  a  hideous  sample  of  humanity, 
seems  to  have  some  difficulty  with  his  breathing 
and  has  removed  his  nose  tubes  to  inspect  his 
nose.  The  tubes  are  slightly  over  an  inch  in 
diameter,  but  the  facility  with  which  he  reinserts 
them  in  the  widely  distended  sides  of  the  nostrils 
makes  evident  the  fact  that  he  could  wear  even 
larger  ones  without  serious  discomfort. 

The  majority  of  the  women  are  down  at  the 
beach,  for  it  is  high  tide  and  the  surf-fish  are 
close  inshore.  The  women  will  bring  in  many 
of  these  queer  httle  fellows,  which  have  an  odd 
habit  of  puffing  themselves  up  like  tightly  dis- 
tended   rubber    balloons    the    minute    they    are 


112    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

taken  from  the  water.  They  are  of  a  bright- 
blue  color  when  freshly  caught,  but  the  delicate 
hues  soon  fade,  after  death,  to  a  somber  olive. 
These  fish  are  considered  a  delicacy  by  all  of  the 
Malay-speaking  peoples,  and  the  Polynesians, 
too. 

As  soon  as  the  women  return  the  company  in 
the  grove  will  break  up  and  all  will  repair  to 
their  respective  shacks,  where  they  will  gather 
around  the  fires  and  roast  the  fish  on  spits,  eat 
their  sago  cake,  and  at  the  same  time  pet  the 
dogs  and  pigs  which  wander  in  and  around  the 
family  circles,  as  much  at  home,  and  quite  as  wel- 
come, as  any  one  present.  In  the  waning  sun- 
light of  late  afternoon  these  simple  groups 
engaged  in  homely  intercourse  at  their  frugal 
meals  are  a  pleasing  sight.  The  leaping  flames 
of  the  firelight  cast  a  ruddy  glow  over  their 
naked  forms,  bringing  into  relief  the  rugged 
contours  of  their  torsos  and  faces.  As  the  eve- 
ning creeps  upon  them  they  drift  away,  one  by 
one,  to  the  smoke-filled  shacks,  where  the 
smudge  protects  them  from  the  mosquitos.     By 


Eating  iniul!      Tluil".s  it,  jwit  plain,  dried  mud 


'Little  Playmate,"  readjusts  his  nose-tubes 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  KAMPONG    118 

the  time  darkness  has  come  they  are  all  inside, 
where  they  gossip  and  carry  on  for  an  hour  or 
two  before  finally  falling  off  to  sleep. 

Our  own  meals  Moh  serves  beneath  the 
protecting  klambu,  which  encloses  within  its 
spacious  tent-like  interior  our  camp  table  and 
several  folding-chairs.  The  large  gasolene 
lamp,  which  is  a  continual  source  of  wonder 
to  the  natives,  lights  the  camp  with  almost 
daytime  brilliance,  and  we  doubly  enjoy  our 
dinner  in  the  cool,  refreshing  air  of  early  eve- 
ning. 

During  the  month  of  February  it  grows  dark 
shortly  after  six  in  Kia  Kia  Land.  As  we 
are  continuing  the  night  sentry  duty,  which  en- 
tails somewhat  broken  slumber,  the  one  of  us 
who  takes  second  watch  turns  in  after  an  after- 
dinner  pipe,  while  the  other  mounts  guard  and 
for  want  of  better  company  talks  to  INIoh  until 
that  worthy  has  finished  with  the  dishes.  His 
fears  are  slowly  diminishing,  which  fact  we 
ascribe  in  part  to  the  eyes  one  of  the  dusky  maid- 
ens  has   cast   upon   him.     We  have,   however. 


114    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

stopped  the  incipient  affair  with  threats  of  dire 
punishment.  Moh  has  a  large  respect  for  our 
ability  to  punish  and  dutifully  refrains  from 
returning  the  amorous  glances  of  the  charmer, 
who  finds  it  convenient  to  pass  the  cook-tent 
every  now  and  then.  To  complicate  matters, 
she  speaks  a  little  INIalay.  As  we  keep  Moh 
near  us  at  all  times,  there  is  little  to  fear  and  we 
warn  him  of  how  her  Kia  Kia  "husband"  will 
prepare  him  for  the  roasting-pit  without  inter- 
ference from  us.  Moh  tells  us  volubly  how 
much  he  loves  his  hagoose  iiremiman  in  Jahwa 
(Java),  and  we  listen  with  amused  tolerance. 
The  Malay  does  not  live  that  is  not  susceptible 
to  the  charms  of  the  gentler  sex,  and  Moh  is  no 
exception. 

There  is  a  young  moon,  and  as  it  rises  from 
the  palms  that  fringe  the  point  that  stretches 
seaward  on  the  left  of  our  camp  the  dogs  gather 
in  what  seems  to  be  an  indignation  meeting. 
Their  howling  makes  the  night  hideous.  There 
must  be  fully  a  hundred  in  the  pack  and  each  is 
trying  to  outdo  the  others  in  the  most  soul-rasp- 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  KAMPONG    115 

ing,  blood-curdling  oratorio  imaginable.  This 
is  a  nightly  occurrence  whenever  there  is  a  moon 
and  is  one  of  the  things  that  linger  long  in  the 
memory.  In  no  other  place  in  the  world,  it 
seems  to  us,  have  we  ever  heard  the  equal  of 
these  Kia  Kia  dogs.  Their  howls  might  be  the 
wails  of  long-departed  spirits  in  mourning  over 
their  untimely  demise  and  subsequent  place 
upon  the  menu. 


CHAPTER  IX 

The  Story  of  the  Swiss  Scientist 

WITH  the  passing  of  the  days  our  hosts 
forget  the  gloom  caused  by  the  death 
of  the  old  man  and  resume  then'  usual  laughing, 
care-free  demeanor,  much  to  our  relief.  They 
spend  hours  in  the  shade  of  our  tent,  during 
which  time  we  pick  up  many  of  their  words, — 
enough,  in  fact,  to  enable  us  to  converse  in  a 
limited  way  with  them.  Curiously  intermingled 
with  the  pure  words  of  their  somewhat  limited 
vocabulary  are  many  of  either  pure  INIalay  or 
Malayan  derivation,  and  the  presence  of  these, 
we  find,  helps  us  greatly. 

By  writing  all  their  words  down  phonetically 
and  setting  the  meaning  beside  them,  we  are 
able  to  study  the  language,  which  is  a  surpris- 
ingly simple  one.  They  have  no  writing  and 
their  means  of  counting  is  limited  to  the  ten 

116 


The  hiiirdresser  plaits  long  strands  of  raflia  into  the  kinky  wool 
of  the  Kia  Kias 


The  shiny  inner  suriace  of  a  -Malay  tohacco-bux  serves  them  as  a 

mirror 


STORY  OF  SWISS  SCIENTIST  117 

digits.  All  reckoning  is  done  upon  the  fingers 
and  when  they  run  out  of  fingers  they  are  hard 
put  to  it  to  continue.  However,  if  the  reckoning 
runs  up  to,  say,  thirty  or  forty,  they  count  one 
another's  fingers  and  remember  the  names  of 
those  individuals  included  in  the  calculation. 
The  task  of  remembering  more  than  four  partici- 
pant pairs  of  hands  would  be  beyond  the  power 
of  their  intellects. 

At  ^lerauke  we  heard  of  the  death,  under  mys- 
terious conditions,  of  a  Swiss  scientist  who  came 
to  study  these  people  about  three  years  ago. 
With  the  memory  of  this  incident  fresh  in  our 
minds,  we  inquire  casually  concerning  the  white 
man  reputed  to  have  been  eaten  by  them,  but 
are  met  with  blank  looks  or  glances  of  suspicion. 
Between  ourselves,  we  decide  that  if  it  is 
humanly  possible  to  do  so  we  will  find  the  re- 
mains of  the  unfortunate  man,  a  martyr  to 
scientific  progi'ess,  and  send  his  bones  to  his 
institution  in  Switzerland.  The  demeanor  of  the 
natives  makes  us  sure  that  they  have  guilty 
knowledge  of  his  death,  at  least. 


118    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

Pursuing  the  matter  fui'ther,  and  after  having 
won  the  confidence  of  one  of  the  middle-aged 
men — whom,  by  the  way,  we  have  christened 
"Intelhgence" — we  secure  an  admission  that  the 
man  died  in  this  very  locahty,  though  by  what 
means  Intelligence  will  not  divulge.  After  a 
good  deal  of  discussion,  and  deep  cogitation  on 
his  part,  Intelligence  agrees  to  bring  all  the  older 
men  of  the  kampong  to  a  conference  in  the  after- 
noon, to  discuss  ways  and  means  of  finding  the 
desired  bones,  which  he  says  he  thinks  were 
buried  somewhere  in  the  jungle.  He  is  very 
reticent,  for  he  says  the  Tuan  at  INIerauke  sent 
soldiers  to  find  the  white  man  and  killed  many 
men  when  he  found  that  the  white  man  was  dead. 
The  only  thing  that  moves  Intelligence  to  admit 
as  much  as  he  does  is  our  storj^  of  how  the  man's 
friends  at  home  mourned  his  loss  and  how  greatly 
they  desire  to  have  his  bones  to  inter  properly, 
according  to  the  customs  of  their  tribe. 

Intelligence  leaves  us,  his  head  bowed  in 
thought.  The  situation  is  a  grave  one  and  our 
story  of  the  great  mourning  caused  by  the  poor 


STORY  OF  SWISS  SCIENTIST   119 

scientist's  death,  coming  so  shortly  after  the 
death  of  a  member  of  the  tribe,  sits  heavily  upon 
him.  With  all  their  savage  characteristics,  these 
primitive  men  seem  to  have  within  them  the  milk 
of  human  kindness.  They  are  creatures  of  im- 
pulse. 

While  they  are  debating  the  thing  among 
themselves,  we  go  for  a  short  excursion  in  the 
environs  of  the  camp.  In  the  course  of  conver- 
sations with  Intelligence  we  have  learned  that 
in  this  neighborhood  a  Jesuit  missionary  for- 
merly held  forth,  but  that  he,  also,  died,  about 
the  same  time  that  the  Swiss  lost  his  life.  This 
is  interesting,  and  we  are  reminded  that  these 
people  who  have  been  so  very  cordial  to  us  are 
really  eaters  of  men  and  will  bear  watching. 
Our  attitude  toward  them  is  one  of  firm  superior- 
ity tempered  with  kindliness,  but  we  are  ever 
watchful  for  any  signs  of  treachery.  As  long 
as  the  tobacco  holds  out  our  relations  with  them 
probably  will  be  amicable  enough.  There  is  no 
danger  of  their  trying  to  take  it  by  force  when 
it  is  given  them  gratis  daily,  and  of  course  they 


120    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

do  not  know  that  our  supply  is  not  inexhausti- 
ble. 

As  we  stroll  along  a  scarcely  discernible  path 
that  threads  the  jungle  the  mosquitos  begin  their 
accustomed  attack,  and  we  are  thankful  to  reach 
a  tiny  clearing  on  which  the  creepers  and  oblit- 
erating growths  of  the  primeval  jungle  are  fast 
encroaching.  When  we  finally  get  clear  of  the 
thicket  and  round  a  large  clump  of  young  cocoas, 
there  appears  to  our  astonished  eyes  a  neat  palm- 
thatched  structure  surmounted  with  a  cross. 
This,  then,  is  the  former  missionary's  little 
church,  in  which  he  gave  up  his  life  while  trying 
to  bring  the  light  to  these  benighted  people. 
For  his  pains  he  was  eaten. 

The  door  of  the  little  building  is  closed, 
though  not  latched,  and  the  windows  are  all 
tightly  shut.  We  go  inside  and  with  eyes  strain- 
ing in  the  darkness  try  to  make  out  the  details 
of  the  interior.  Everything  is  just  as  the  poor 
man  left  it.  Nothing  has  been  touched.  The 
soldiers  who  came  to  the  place  to  avenge  both 


STORY  OF  SWISS  SCIENTIST   121 

his  death  and  that  of  the  scientist  ordered  that 
the  natives  whom  they  spared  keep  away  from 
the  place  upon  pain  of  another  raid,  and  the 
black  men  have  declared  the  place  taboo.  The 
church  is  tenanted  now  by  countless  bats,  whose 
noisome  bodies  render  the  air  fetid  with  their 
odor  and  whose  wings  almost  touch  us  as  they 
wheel  to  and  fro,  roused  from  their  slumber 
by  the  opening  of  the  door.  Their  squeaking 
remonstrance  at  being  thus  disturbed  makes  the 
place  eery, — like  some  abode  of  evil  spirits  of  the 
nether  world, — and  we  beat  a  hasty  retreat  to 
the  sunlight  of  the  clearing  outside. 

We  sit  down  to  rest  a  moment  on  a  fallen 
trunk  a  few  yards  from  the  church  and  try  to 
imagine  the  emotions  of  the  man  who,  with  total 
sacrifice  of  self,  came  alone  to  these  people  to  do 
them  only  good  according  to  his  lights,  and  who 
in  turn  suffered  the  extreme  penalty  at  their  un- 
grateful hands.  What  his  last  thoughts  on  earth 
must  have  been  and  what  he  said  are  part  of  our 
conjectures.     We  find  ourselves  wondering  if  he 


122    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

was  strong  enough  to  say  with  his  last  expiring 
breath,  "Father,  forgive  them;  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do." 

JNIixed  with  our  anger  at  the  Kia  Kias  as  we 
gaze  upon  the  mute  witness  to  their  murderous 
prochvities,  however,  there  comes  pity  for  their 
ignorance,  and  we  tell  ourselves  that  their  crime 
was  due  to  savage  ignorance  and  a  natural 
hunting-instinct  for  the  animal  food  their  bodies 
crave.  Man-eating  is  their  custom,  and  this  is 
their  country,  and  it  is  reasonable  to  expect  that 
some  lives  must  be  sacrificed  before  they  can  be 
shown  the  error  of  their  way, — error  in  our  eyes, 
but  not  in  theirs  to  whom  the  land  belongs.  We 
whites  have  become  so  accustomed  to  taking  that 
which  we  desire  from  those  not  gifted  with  the 
power  for  sheer  conquest  which  our  cultural  pro- 
gression has  produced  and  which  gives  us  our 
feeling  of  superiority  to  others,  that,  filled  with 
self-importance,  we  must  needs  seek  lands  afar 
belonging  to  others,  farm  them  regardless  of  the 
owners'  remonstrances,  and  then  add  insult  to 
injury  by  punishing  these  owners  for  continuing 


STORY  OF  SWISS  SCIENTIST  123 

in  their  age-old  practices.  There  are  two  sides 
to  the  question.  True,  there  is  no  doubt  that 
our  civilization  is  the  better, — for  us.  They  have 
not  found  it  so  for  them.  Laurence  Hope  has 
said  the  Creator,  after  molding  One,  sublimely 
perfect,  "doubtless  in  some  idle  moment  mixed 
the  forces  that  fashioned  me." 

Our  kodaks  perpetuate  the  little  church  for  us 
and  we  leave  it  with  no  regret,  for  it  does  not 
engender  the  most  pleasant  of  thoughts.  When 
we  return  to  camp,  we  find  that  our  interme- 
diary, Intelligence,  has  arranged  for  the  con- 
ference earlier  than  was  expected,  and  that  the 
others  are  ready  to  gather  at  our  pleasure. 
There  is  no  time  like  the  present,  so  we  tell  him 
to  summon  his  clan  that  we  may  start  the  pow- 
wow. 

We  place  our  chairs  under  the  shade  of  the  fly 
at  the  rear  of  our  tent  and  soon  the  older  men 
begin  to  drift  toward  us.  They  seat  themselves 
in  a  semicircle  facing  us  and  at  a  distance  of  ten 
or  fifteen  feet.  When  all  are  seated,  Intelh- 
gence   begins   a   long  harangue, — a   torrent  of 


124    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

words  which  fall  from  his  lips  so  fast  that  they 
are  wholly  unintelligible  to  us.  His  discourse 
is  received  coldly  by  some  of  his  fellows,  but  one 
or  two — those  who  have  seemed  most  friendly  to 
us — take  kindly  to  our  plan,  judging  from  the 
expression  on  their  faces. 

A  hot  debate  ensues.  After  several  hours  of 
earnest  palaver  in  which  we  take  no  part,  Intel- 
ligence turns  to  us  and  signifies  that  he  would 
like  us  to  speak  on  the  subject.  This  we  do, 
assuring  them  that  the  Dutch  Government  has 
no  part  in  our  plan,  and  that  if  they  will  deliver 
the  bones  of  the  Swiss  to  us  we  will  guarantee 
that  no  punishment  whatever  shall  befall  the 
members  of  the  community.  We  draw  as  vivid 
a  picture  of  the  scientist's  grieving  relatives  as 
is  possible  with  our  limited  vocabulary,  and  at 
length  prevail  upon  the  savage  assembly  to 
promise  to  bring  the  poor  man's  bones  to  camp 
upon  the  morrow. 

Our  apparent  victory,  has  not,  however,  been 
achieved  without  the  excliange  of  some  very 
black    looks   among   several   of  the   Kia   Kias. 


Tlif   (IrxTtcd    .icsiiit    iiiissidu   wiiicli    innncrly    was    the    juuu'    and 
liope  of  its  unfortunate  builder 


111   tlic  earlv  exenin;:  tlie  wiinieii   sit    around   nn    (he  eopradrying 
jilal  I'diins   ami   watch    (he   sunset 


STORY  OF  SWISS  SCIENTIST   125 

There  are  still  a  few  who  remain  firm  in  their 
belief  that  this  is  some  trick  of  the  white  man's  to 
make  them  incriminate  themselves.  Upon  the 
decision  of  the  majority  to  hand  over  the  re- 
mains to  the  white  men,  the  meeting  breaks  up 
and  all  but  Intelligence  leave  for  their  respective 
quarters.  He  lingers  to  tell  us  that  he,  himself, 
will  bring  the  bones  in  to-morrow  afternoon. 
So  grateful  are  we  that  we  present  him  with  a 
shiny  trade  hatchet  and  an  American  trench 
mirror.     He  departs  with  many  thanks. 

The  request  we  have  made  has  caused  a  stir  in 
the  kampong  and  the  accustomed  afternoon 
meeting  in  the  shade  of  the  grove  back  of  the 
village  does  not  take  place.  A  few  of  the 
younger  people  gather  there  for  their  usual  en- 
joyment of  one  another's  society,  but  the  elders 
are  all  grouped  about  their  doorways,  earnestly 
discussing  something.  Now  and  then  specula- 
tive glances  in  our  direction  tell  us  that  we  are 
the  chief  topic  of  conversation.  Moh  is  distinctly 
uneasy. 

In  the  very  outer  fringe  of  the  grove,  and 


126    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

directly  back  of  our  tent,  there  is  a  little  knot 
of  young  men  and  women  who  are  apparently 
very  much  interested  in  something  which  is 
screened  from  our  view  by  the  intervening  bodies 
of  the  watchers.  We  do  not  wish  to  miss  any- 
thing unusual,  so  we  hasten  over  to  see  what  is 
taking  place.  From  the  extreme  absorption  of 
the  onlookers  and  the  absence  of  the  laughter  and 
gaiety  which  usually  attend  these  gatherings  we 
know  that  something  of  moment  is  under  way. 
An  amazing  sight  greets  our  eyes.  Lying  at 
full  length  upon  the  ground  is  a  young  woman 
of  perhaps  eighteen  years,  undergoing  what  must 
be  the  most  exquisite  torture.  Ah,  what  woman 
will  not  endure  to  be  in  fashion!  At  work  upon 
her  quivering  body  is  an  ancient  crone,  who  with 
a  sharpened  piece  of  shell  is  cutting  deep  cic- 
atrices in  the  flesh  of  the  abdomen.  The  girl 
undergoing  the  operation  is  bearing  with  stoic 
courage  the  pain  it  must  cost  her,  though  her 
face  twists  and  her  nuiscles  contract  in  a  spas- 
modic tremor  each  time  the  old  woman  gashes 
her.     The  artist  is  cutting  a  scar  pattern,  which 


STORY  OF  SWISS  SCIENTIST   127 

is  the  highest  type  of  personal  adornment  these 
people  know.  The  cuts  are  made  diagonally 
underneath  the  skin  and  to  a  depth  of  a  full  quar- 
ter of  an  inch,  so  that  as  each  is  made  there  is  a 
flap  of  skin  turned  up  which  varies  from  a  thin 
edge  to  a  thickness  equal  to  the  full  depth  of  the 
cut. 

The  poor  girl  looks  as  if  she  regrets  having 
asked  that  the  thing  be  done,  but,  having  started, 
is  afraid  of  ridicule  unless  she  goes  through  with 
it.  The  others  gaze  upon  her  with  varying  ex- 
pressions. Some  of  the  very  young  girls  are 
palpably  envious,  while  those  whose  bodies  are 
similarly  adorned  are  commiserating  in  de- 
meanor ;  they  know  the  pain  the  girl  is  suffering. 
The  men  look  on  with  indifference,  though  they 
offer  suggestions  now  and  then  as  to  how  to  en- 
hance the  beauty  of  the  design.  As  each  cut  is 
made,  a  handful  of  dirt  is  scooped  up  from  the 
ground  and  rubbed  well  into  the  wound,  care 
being  taken  to  fill  the  cut  to  its  fullest  depth. 

Eight  cuts  have  been  made  when  the  girl  de- 
cides that  she  can  stand  no  more  at  the  present 


128    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

and  the  old  woman  desists  after  carefully  patting 
the  edges  of  the  wounds  and  applying  broad, 
fresh  green  leaves  to  them  as  a  dressing.  These 
are  held  in  place  by  thongs  of  kangaroo  hide 
bound  around  the  body.  The  purpose  of  the 
dirt  rubbed  into  the  wounds  is  to  make  them 
fester  and  thereby  raise  the  great  wales  that  are 
so  admired  by  the  Kia  Kias. 

As  the  girl  rises  stiffly  to  her  feet,  the  men 
present  look  at  us  with  approbative  grins  and 
nod  their  satisfaction.  The  decoration  of  this 
particular  girl  promises  well,  for  the  old  woman 
who  has  been  doing  the  work  is  acknowledged  to 
be  an  artist  at  it,  and  one  of  the  girls  whose 
scars  have  long  since  healed  displays  those  upon 
her  body,  calling  to  our  attention  proofs  of  the 
fine  technique.  She  obligingly  poses  for  our 
cameras  and  in  return  for  her  kindness  we 
present  her  with  an  extra  allowance  of  tobacco. 


CHAPTER  X 

Our  Consolation  Prize 

IN  our  land  the  advent  of  a  new  member  of 
the  household  is  usually  the  occasion  of  much 
todo.  There  are  many  whispered  conferences 
and  grave  speculations  as  to  the  advisability  of 
this  or  that,  and  in  many  cases  Mother  is  sum- 
moned as  mistress  of  ceremonies.  Wife's  sister 
also  may  attend  and  shuffle  you  unceremoniously 
out  of  the  way  of  the  trained  nurse  that  bustles 
by,  redolent  of  some  carbolic  derivative,  and 
utterly  unconscious  of  your  existence.  You 
who  thought  that  you  were  in  some  remote  way 
interested,  and  at  least  partly  responsible  for  the 
commotion,  are  thrown  temporarily  into  the  dis- 
card and  sometimes  permanently  so. 

This  is  not  the  case  in  Kia  Kia  households. 
There  is  no  trained  nurse.  There  is  no  an- 
esthetic.    Father's  feelings  are  not  ruffled,  for 

129 


130    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

he  may  at  the  moment  be  putting  on  his  last  coat 
of  ochre  or  having  his  hair  re-di'essed.  Indeed, 
the  farrowing  of  the  family  sow  is  of  greater 
moment,  for  the  little  pigs  may  be  eaten,  while 
the  new  hmnan  arrival  may  not.  True,  after  the 
child  is  born,  it  is  the  object  of  much  affection, 
but  its  actual  advent  is  a  matter  that  concerns 
the  mother  only.  In  rare  cases,  we  find,  some 
friend  of  her  own  sex  does  attend,  but  this  is  by 
no  means  the  rule. 

A  young  woman  who  we  know  is  about  to  be- 
come a  mother  has  just  passed  our  tent  on  her 
way  into  the  jungle.  She  is  going  there  alone. 
Something  in  her  demeanor  tells  us  that  this  is  to 
be  the  natal  morning  of  a  new  member  of  the 
tribe  and  the  other  women's  calls  to  her,  as  she 
wends  her  way  up  the  pathway,  are  significant. 
We  question  Intelligence,  who  is  fast  becoming 
our  instructor  in  things  Kia  Kia,  and  he  describes 
to  us  the  method  by  which  these  savage  mothers 
bring  their  offspring  into  the  world.  With  them 
nature  takes  its  natural  course.  There  have  been 
no   displacements   of   internal   organs    in   these 


OUR  CONSOLATION  PRIZE      131 

women  of  the  wilds,  as  there  has  been  in  our 
women  who  wear  tight  corsets  and  destroy  the 
natural  poise  of  the  body  and  loins  with  high- 
heeled  shoes. 

When  the  woman  we  have  just  seen  arrives  at 
a  place  she  has  prepared  the  day  previous,  where 
she  knows  she  will  be  left  severely  alone,  she 
merely  lies  down  and  awaits  her  labor.  When 
the  new  little  being  has  entered  the  big  outside 
world  in  its  natural,  unassisted  way,  and  the 
proper  time  has  come,  it  is  the  mother  who  han- 
dles the  only  instrument  used  in  the  case, — a 
sharp  sea-shell.  She  tenderly  wraps  the  child 
in  broad  leaves  to  protect  its  tender  skin  from 
insects,  and  within  an  hour,  or  at  most  two,  after 
the  actual  birth  she  returns  proudly  to  the  kam- 
pong,  carrying  the  little  one,  which  is  the  object 
of  much  attention  from  then  on. 

As  Intelligence  finishes  his  description  one  of 
his  friends  comes  to  the  tent  and  tells  him  that 
he  is  wanted  elsewhere.  Without  excuse  or 
good-by,  he  rises  and  follows  his  friend  away, 
leaving  us  for  the  time  being  to  our  own  devices. 


132    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

The  women  of  the  shack  nearest  oui*  tent  are 
engaged  in  making  attaps.  These  are  the  thatch 
coverings  with  which  the  natives  roof  their  homes. 
The  process  is  an  interesting  one  and  merits 
description.  Several  bundles  of  cocoanut  fronds 
have  been  gathered,  and  it  is  from  these  that  the 
women  make  the  rain-proof  roof  sections.  The 
midrib  of  each  of  the  fronds  is  stripped  of  the 
narrow  sagittate  leaves,  split  to  render  it  less 
thick  and  bulky,  and  cut  into  lengths  of  approxi- 
mately four  feet.  The  leaves  are  then  taken 
one  by  one  and  after  being  bent  over  the  split 
midrib  are  sewn  upon  it  with  fibers  stripped  from 
the  stiff  outer  skin  of  the  rib.  As  the  fronds 
selected  have  leaves  nearly  thirty  inches  long,  the 
section  of  attap  when  complete  is  about  fourteen 
inches  wide  and  is  as  long  as  the  stick  whidi 
holds  it  together  and  supports  it  in  position  when 
put  to  use.  The  leaves  overlap  one  another  and 
in  consequence  the  attaps  will  shed  the  hard- 
est of  the  hard  rains  for  which  these  latitudes 
are  noted.  Not  only  are  they  admirable  shelter 
from  inclement  weather,  but  they  are  a  great 


The  moil  oc-ciiiiy  tlicir  timi"  with   rovision  of  their  toilets,  rather 
than  in  linini:  liu'  cliori's 


* 

&^j 

Sarali 


OUR  CONSOLATION  PRIZE     133 

protection  from  the  tropical  sun  which  beats 
fiercely  during  most  of  the  year  upon  these 
shores.  Nature  is  kind  to  these  people,  for  their 
every  want  is  supplied  by  her  from  a  vast  store- 
house close  at  hand. 

An  interested  observer  of  the  making  of  the 
attaps  is  the  ample  Sarah,  the  wabbly-fleshed 
sow  that  resides  in  our  neighbor's  shack.  We 
call  her  Sarah,  for  that  is  the  closest  approxima- 
tion om-  language  affords  to  her  real  name  as 
pronounced  by  the  natives. 

Sarah  finally  decides  that  enough  attaps  have 
been  completed  for  the  nonce  and  with  porcine 
indifference  to  the  plans  of  others  deposits  her- 
self with  many  wheedling  grunts  du'ectly  in  front 
of  one  of  the  older  women  and  also  upon  the 
attap  she  is  finishing.  The  woman  roars  with 
laughter.  She  calls  the  attention  of  the  others 
to  Sarah's  appropriation  of  the  spot  and  Sarah 
adds  to  the  conversation  several  louder  grunts, 
as  though  demanding  attention.  The  woman 
slaps  Sarah  fondly  upon  her  swelling  ham  and 
proceeds  to  perform  the  operation  that  the  big 


134    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

creature  has  come  to  enjoy.  Taking  a  short 
piece  of  one  of  the  midribs,  she  scratches  Sarah's 
back,  which  brings  from  the  sow  grunts  of  grate- 
ful approval. 

JNIoh  has  struck  a  deal  with  one  of  the  women 
whereby  we  are  kept  supplied  with  cocoanuts, 
which  formerly  were  brought  to  us  daily  but  of 
late  have  been  coming  in  decreasing  numbers. 
He  gives  in  return  for  five  cocoanuts  one  empty 
tomato  can  or  a  canned-corn  tin.  He  has  an  eye 
to  business  and  the  girl  who  made  eyes  at  him 
a  few  days  ago  is  now  his  customer.  Judging 
from  his  very  businesslike  attitude  toward  her, 
he  has  discovered  something  unattractive  about 
her.  A  young  and  very  fearsome  Kia  Kia 
spends  a  gi-eat  deal  of  his  time  in  her  company. 

Our  safety  razors  are  a  great  curiosity  to  the 
men,  who  shave  in  what  to  us  would  be  a  most 
unpleasant  way.  They  pluck  their  beards  with 
tweezers  made  of  brass,  of  which  there  are  several 
pairs  in  the  kampong.  These  are  relics  of 
former  visits  of  Malay  traders  who  come  to  the 
coast  during  the  calm  season.     When  we  shave, 


OUR  CONSOLATION  PRIZE      135 

there  invariably  cluster  around,  to  watch  the 
operation,  a  group  of  wondering  men  who  shake 
their  heads  as  though  the  ways  and  implements 
of  the  white  men  were  beyond  their  comprehen- 
sion. Our  shoes  are  a  source  of  amusement  to 
them,  for  they  cannot  understand  why  one  should 
wish  to  incase  the  feet  in  such  stiff,  unyielding 
contraptions.  Our  other  clothing  they  admire 
greatly,  and  one  of  them  proudly  wears  one  of 
our  discarded  shirts.  The  typewriter  is  a  contin- 
ual source  of  wonder,  for  they  sense  the  use  to 
which  it  is  put  and  are  awed  by  it  as  much  as 
by  anything  that  we  possess. 

Though  it  is  midday,  it  suddenly  grows  dark 
and  we  go  outside  the  tent,  where  just  a  little 
while  ago  the  glare  was  almost  blinding.  The 
entire  sky  is  overcast,  and  we  see  that  we  are  to 
taste  of  a  regular  tropical  storm, — the  first,  in 
fact,  that  we  have  experienced  since  landing. 
The  wind  is  moaning  through  the  palms  in  rap- 
idly rising  key,  and  the  surf  not  far  distant  is 
pounding  upon  the  beach  with  a  menacing  roar. 
As  the  wind  rises  the  natives  scurry  around. 


136   THE  ISLE  OF  VAIVJ^ISHING  MEN 

gathering  up  their  belongings,  and  the  children 
take  to  cover  with  cries  of  alarm.  Even  the 
dogs  shnk  through  the  little  openings  in  the  house 
fronts  that  are  cut  for  their  especial  use  and  in 
a  surprisingly  short  space  of  time  the  kampong 
is  deserted. 

We  make  a  hurried  examination  of  the  guy- 
ropes  of  our  tent  and  tighten  some  of  those  that 
are  loose. 

The  wind  is  fast  becoming  a  hurricane  and  if 
it  were  not  for  the  shelter  of  the  surrounding 
palms  the  tent  would  be  blown  flat  in  an  instant. 
As  it  is,  however,  it  stands  the  tempest  pretty 
well.  The  rain  bursts  upon  us  without  warn- 
ing, obliterating  from  view  the  grove  behind  the 
tent.  The  cocoas  are  thrashing  wildly  to  and 
fro  in  a  frenzy  that  makes  us  wonder  how  they 
stand  it.  The  torrential  rain  floods  the  kam- 
pong, which  for  a  few  moments  resembles  a  lake 
in  which  the  houses  are  entirely  surrounded  with 
water.  A  terrific  peal  of  thunder  follows  one 
of  the  most  vivid  of  lightning-flashes  and  above 
the  drumming  patter  of  the  rain  and  the  howling 


L 


The  kapala  karnpojig  presents  ns  with  human  skulls,  the  highest 
token  of  their  esteem 


A  young  and  very  fearsome  Kia   Kia  sjtends  a  great  deal  of  his 
time  with  her 


OUR  CONSOLATION  PRIZE     137 

of  the  wind  we  hear  the  shrieks  of  the  frightened 
children  in  the  shack  next  to  us. 

The  thirsty  soil  drinks  up  the  moisture  rap- 
idly, and  soon  after  the  rain  ceases,  which  is 
scarcely  ten  minutes  from  the  time  the  storm 
broke,  the  ground  is  free  of  puddles.  The  air 
is  cool  and  refreshing  and  there  is  a  clean  smell 
in  it  that  is  invigorating.  The  sun  comes  out 
again  and  the  rain-washed  palms  take  on  a 
brighter  green,  as  though  some  accommodating 
painter  had  touched  them  up  anew. 

Our  tent  has  shed  the  water  perfectly,  and  we 
and  our  belongings  are  as  dry  as  one  could  wish. 
Shortly  after  the  storm  we  have  a  visitor.  It 
is  Intelligence.  He  brings  with  him  our  gifts  of 
yesterday.  These  he  tenders  us  with  downcast 
countenance,  telling  us  at  the  same  time  that  he 
cannot  find  the  bones  of  the  Tuan. 

His  abject  sorrow  at  disappointing  us  is  ev- 
idence that  he  has  met  with  utter  failure,  though 
from  what  cause  we  are  not  sure.  Very  likely 
it  is  on  account  of  the  opposition  encountered 
from  the  other  natives.     As  we  feel  that  his  ef- 


138    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

forts  in  our  behalf  merit  some  token  of  our 
appreciation,  we  tell  him  that  he  may  keep  the 
articles  and  he  withdraws,  anxious  to  get  away 
and  cover  his  chagrin.  Our  hopes  of  securing 
the  remains  of  the  Swiss  must  be  abandoned. 

Our  disappointment  is  to  be  tempered,  how- 
ever, for  in  a  short  time  signs  of  life  are  evident 
in  the  spaces  before  the  houses  and  we  note  that 
drums  are  being  tuned,  feathered  ornaments 
donned,  and  an  air  of  expectancy  pervades  the 
village.  We  recognize  the  signs  as  preparations 
for  a  feast,  and  the  loud  squealing  of  a  pig,  end- 
ing abruptly,  somewhere  back  of  the  house,  is 
conclusive  evidence  that  a  jollification  is  planned. 

Shortly  before  nightfall  a  delegation  of  natives 
waits  upon  us  and  requests  that  we  follow  them 
to  the  beach.  This  we  do,  wondering  the  while 
what  is  in  progress;  but  as  the  men  are  most 
friendly  in  their  behavior,  we  feel  sure  that  what- 
ever it  is,  it  is  planned  for  our  entertainment. 
Arriving  at  the  beach,  we  find  the  men  of  the 
kampong  assembled  and  as  we  step  from  the 
palms  they  raise  their  voices  in  a  chant  of  wel- 


OUR  CONSOLATION  PRIZE     139 

come.  With  all  the  wild  savagery  of  the  scene 
it  is  strangely  thrilling.  As  we  approach  they 
spread  out  and  arrange  themselves  in  a  large 
circle  around  a  forked  stick  from  which  hang 
two  human  skulls.  We  are  led  to  the  center  of 
the  circle  where,  after  an  impressive  speech  by 
the  kapala  kampong,  we  are  presented  with  the 
skulls.  These  are  a  token  of  highest  esteem  and 
we  accept  them  as  such, — and,  too,  as  a  sort  of 
consolation  prize  for  our  disappointment  of  an 
hour  ago.  Moh  snaps  a  picture  of  the  ceremony 
for  us,  but  remarks  when  returning  the  kodak: 

"Tuan,  ini  gamber  tida  biak,  Sahya  korang 
preska  brapa,  Tuan.  [Master,  this  picture  is 
not  good;  I  do  not  know  how,  Master.]" 

As  it  turns  out,  however,  Moh  got  the  ^picture. 


CHAPTER  XI 


The  Feast 


THE  presentation  of  skulls  is  but  the  prel- 
ude to  a  great  entertainment.  It  has 
been  planned  for  our  especial  benefit.  As  a 
sort  of  opening  chorus  and  introductory  number, 
we  are  entertained  with  the  Kia  Kia  song  of 
welcome  as  the  circle  of  witnesses  to  the  skull- 
presentation  ceremony  breaks  up. 

The  medicine  man — who,  by  the  way,  is 
supposed  to  hold  communion  with  the  spirits  that 
eveiy  native  believes  inhabit  the  jungle — leads 
in  the  opening  number,  which  is  an  ensemble  of 
all  tlie  adult  males  of  the  kampong.  He  is 
attended  by  two  others,  who  circle  around  him 
with  heads  bowed,  rattling  castanets  made  of  the 
great  pincers  of  the  crayfish  with  which  the  coast 
abounds.  These  have  a  sound  wliicli  reminds 
one  of  the  never-to-be  forgotten  but  hard-to- 

140 


The  circle  breaks  up  and  a  dance  takes  place  for  our 
entertainment 


They  sang  for  us  at  tlie  top  of  their  leather  lungs 


THE  FEAST  141 

describe  warning  of  the  diamond-back  crotalus 
or  rattlesnake  of  America. 

The  medicine  man  is  grotesque  with  his  bar- 
baric adornments.  Surmounting  his  head  and 
securely  fastened  to  his  ordinary  headdress,  is 
a  fish  carved  of  wood,  of  a  light  pithy  variety. 
The  fish  is  nearly  two  feet  in  length  and  though 
its  general  color  is  white,  the  markings  rep- 
resenting its  fins  and  eyes  are  in  red.  As  the 
man  walks  it  bobs  up  and  down  in  a  funny  way 
as  though  nodding  its  approval  of  the  ceremony. 
While  the  medicine  man  and  his  feather-bedecked 
attendants  perform  their  dance  with  extreme 
gravity,  the  others  who  are  at  some  distance  in 
the  background,  nearer  the  water's  edge,  stride 
up  and  down  the  beach  in  close  formation,  sing- 
ing at  the  top  of  their  lungs  a  refrain  that  seems 
to  be  a  continuous  repetition  of  perhaps  a  dozen 
notes. 

They  walk  briskly  ten  or  twelve  yards  past 
the  little  group  of  three  in  the  foreground  and 
then  reverse,  those  who  had  been  in  the  rear  now 
becoming  the  leaders,  and  walk  an  equal  distance 


142    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

to  the  other  side  of  the  medicine  man.  Mean- 
while, the  song  goes  on  and  the  castanets 
continue  their  dry,  menacing  rattle.  We  watch 
them  for  a  space  of  ten  minutes,  but  after  that 
the  dance  begins  to  grow  monotonous.  The 
thump  of  the  drums  keeps  up  with  mechanical 
precision  the  even  rh}i;hm  of  the  walking-dance. 
The  performance  becomes  a  bore.  While  the 
dance  is  still  in  progi*ess  we  leave  the  beach  to 
return  to  the  camp.  Once  warmed  up,  as  they 
now  are,  they  will  continue  to  dance  without  in- 
terruption for  hours.  As  the  older  men  become 
fatigued  they  will  drop  out  and  younger  ones 
take  their  place.  When  they  have  rested  suffi- 
ciently, they  will  return,  and  so  the  dance  goes 
on. 

While  the  men  are  dancing  the  women  are 
not  idle.  The  fires  are  burning  brightly  in  the 
kampong  and  over  them  the  girls  are  roasting 
fish  and  sago  cakes,  while  three  women  are  care- 
fully turning  the  pig  that  squealed  this  after- 
noon, in  a  pit  dug  for  the  purpose  of  roasting 


THE  FEAST  143 

him  according  to  their  method.  The  pit  is  filled 
with  red-hot  stones,  we  find  upon  examination, 
and  the  odor  that  rises  from  the  place  makes  us 
hungry.  We  begin  to  wonder  how  we  can  refuse 
to  partake  of  his  porkship,  for  we  know  that 
they  will  surely  offer  us  some  of  the  meat.  That 
pig,  like  all  their  others,  has  been  too  careless  in 
its  diet  to  suit  us  as  food,  no  matter  how  delicious 
the  cooking  may  smell.  In  order  that  we  may 
have  some  semblance  of  an  excuse  to  refuse  the 
meat  we  order  Moh  to  watch  the  roasting  and 
have  our  dinner  ready  to  serve  the  moment  the 
pig  is  ready  for  the  natives.  We  can  then  plead 
satiety  without  hurting  their  feelings. 

As  it  happens,  we  are  able  to  evade  the  issue 
gracefully,  for  the  women  take  the  food  to  the 
dancers  on  the  beach,  where  they  line  up  and 
receive  it  upon  broad  palm-leaves  the  women 
provide  for  the  purpose.  When  all  have  eaten, 
the  dancing  is  resumed.  A  great  fire  is  built  on 
the  sand  and  the  dance  goes  on  in  its  light, — 
the  most  savage  scene  imaginable.     Though  our 


144    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

hosts  began  the  party  in  our  honor,  now  all  are 
joining  in  for  the  sheer  pleasure  it  gives  them, 
with  no  thought  of  us. 

After  our  dinner  we  go  down  and  watch  them 
for  an  hour  before  turning  in.  As  the  excite- 
ment heightens  the  affair  becomes  a  wild  orgy 
in  which  all  participate,  and  we  beat  a  hasty 
retreat  to  the  chaste  seclusion  of  our  tent,  there 
to  conjure  sleep  in  the  midst  of  this  most  unholy 
uproar. 

Long  into  the  night  the  mad  festival  continues, 
until  one  by  one  the  participants  drop  out  from 
utter  exhaustion  and  make  their  way  to  the 
shacks,  where  they  gossip  in  loud  tones,  much  to 
our  annoyance. 

The  sun  is  overhead  when  the  natives  emerge 
the  next  day.  Unaccustomed  to  violent  exercise 
such  as  that  of  the  night  before,  some  of  them 
wearily  drag  themselves  to  the  shade  of  the 
groves  with  the  air  of  persons  trying  to  show 
signs  of  animation  merely  to  save  their  friends 
the  trouble  of  a  funeral. 

The  women  seem  to  be  absolutely  fagged  out, 


Long  into  the  night  the  mad  festival  foiitinues.  To  exert  them- 
selves in  any  prodnctive  ucL-upation  to  a  like  extent  would  kill 
them 


:«i*a^r 


The  drums  arc  tuned  in  a  peculiar  manner.  Having  no  strings 
fastened  to  the  lieads  with  wliieh  to  tighten  tlieni.  they  place 
small  lumps  of  resin  mixed  with  clay  on  tiie  heads  to  produce  the 
desired  sound 


THE  FEAST  145 

and  their  feet  drag  as  they  prepare  food  for  the 
men.  There  is  little  to  interest  one  in  the  kam- 
pong  to-day,  but  later  on,  when  the  heat  of  mid- 
day is  past,  the  women  gather  in  groups  to 
prepare  wady,  the  fermented  drink  of  the  Kia 
Kias.  Its  preparation  is  neither  nice  nor  sani- 
tary. The  female  of  the  species  being  more 
deadly  than  the  male,  the  women  macerate  in 
their  mouths  the  ingredients  of  the  drink,  to  ex- 
tract the  juices.  For  the  killing  mixture  that 
produces  wady,  they  chew  up  cocoanut  meat, 
certain  roots  and  leaves  they  gather  in  the  jungle, 
and  the  acrid  outer  husk  of  the  cocoanut. 

This  juice  mixed  with  saliva  is  diluted  with 
water  and  stored  in  gourds.  It  is  allowed  to 
ferment,  enough  sago  starch  being  added  to  aid 
the  process.  After  the  mixture  has  stood  a  day 
or  two  in  the  heat  of  the  sun,  it  has  sufficient 
*'kick"  to  floor  a  mule.  While  the  wady  is  ripen- 
ing the  kampong  rests  and  visitors  from  a  dis- 
tant kampong  drop  in  to  attend  the  coming  wady 
party,  for  an  invitation  has  been  sent  them  by 
messenger. 


146   THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

^^Tiile  the  feast  was  in  progress  there  seems 
to  have  developed  a  real  love-affair  between  two 
members  of  the  community.  They  have  decided 
that  they  are  for  each  other  and  that  henceforth 
they  will  live  together.  The  decision  is  a 
momentous  one,  for  it  involves  a  ceremony  so 
utterly  incomprehensible  to  the  white  man  that 
we  are  aghast  at  its  unbridled  license. 

According  to  Kia  Kia  ideas,  a  woman,  to 
remain  true  to  her  husband,  must  have  removed 
from  her  mind  any  desire  for  male  companionship 
other  than  his.  She  therefore  must  submit  her- 
self to  every  man  of  her  tribe  before  the  marriage 
is  recognized.  This  ceremony  is  made  the  occa- 
sion for  an  orgy,  and  though  the  participants  are 
severel}''  punished  by  the  Dutch  officials  when 
discovered,  it  is  still  in  vogue  clandestinely. 

It  is  due  to  this  that  many  of  the  women 
prefer  to  remain  single  and  free  to  choose. 
Those  who  undergo  the  frightful  ordeal  are  never 
molested,  we  are  told.  Indeed,  it  is  said  that 
two  out  of  every  five  women  succumb  after  such 
an  experience.     Preparations  are  in  progress  for 


THE  FEAST  147 

the  ceremony,  which  is  to  take  place  this  evening, 
and  the  bride  is  even  now  adorning  herself  with 
feathered  finery  and  besmearing  her  dusky  body 
with  oil  and  paint.  After  night  has  settled 
down,  all  the  natives  repair  to  a  clearing  where 
the  drums  are  calling  and  a  huge  fire  is  built. 
The  occasion  is  one  of  merriment  and  the  cere- 
mony continues  far  into  the  night. 

The  day  that  the  wady  is  ready  the  natives 
gather  in  the  shade  for  the  express  purpose  of 
becoming  thoroughly  and  most  comfortably  ine- 
briated. As  the  liquor  begins  to  take  effect 
they  dance  and  sing.  While  they  dance  more 
wady  is  given  them,  until  they  are  overcome  and 
perforce  must  stagger  away  and  lie  down.  Soon 
they  fall  asleep,  not  to  waken  until  late  the  next 
day,  when  they  experience  the  most  depressing 
of  "mornings  after."  By  this  time  the  wady  is 
all  gone,  and,  too,  there  is  no  ice-water!  After 
a  wady  party  of  this  kind  the  men  do  not  fully 
recover  for  days,  for  the  stuff  is  almost  paralyz- 
ing in  its  effect. 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  Head  Dance 

IT  seems  that  while  the  wady  party  was  in 
progress  something  occm'red  that  aroused 
the  ire  of  one  or  two  of  the  older  women  of 
the  kampong.  The  visitors  who  came  to  par- 
take of  the  cup  that  cheers  partook  of  something 
else,  not  on  the  program,  and  this  occasioned 
a  great  deal  of  discussion,  conducted  mainly  by 
the  wife  of  the  injured  party. 

A  very  fine  stone  club  turned  up  missing,  so 
to  speak,  and  the  family  wealth  was  thus  greatly 
depleted.  While  the  loss  is  of  moment,  the  men 
are  inclined  to  pass  the  matter  over,  but  this  is 
not  the  case  with  the  women.  Things  have  been 
going  too  smoothly  of  late,  and  they  desire  some 
real  diversion.  The  feast  just  held  has  served 
but  to  whet  their  appetite  for  excitement  and 
they  demand  that  the  men  go  to  the  other  kam- 

148 


The  Dutch  officials  punish  tliem  severely  for  indulging  in  these 
practices 


The  Head  Dance.     Two  girls  begin  it  by   slowly  walking   up  and 
down  in  the  center  of  the  circle  of  onlookers 


THE  HEAD  DANCE  149 

pong  and  either  secure  the  stolen  club,  which 
took  so  many  weary  hours  in  the  making,  or 
collect  other  indemnity.  At  the  threat  that  all 
the  women  will  hold  themselves  aloof  until  the 
demand  is  obeyed,  the  men  go  on  what  purports 
to  be  a  friendly  visit  and  actually  do  return  two 
days  later  with  the  stolen  club. 

Our  interest  is  aroused,  and  Intelligence  is 
questioned  as  to  what  would  have  happened  had 
the  thieving  member  of  the  neighboring  tribe 
failed  to  return  the  weapon.  In  the  course  of 
his  long-winded  reply  he  tells  us  many  things  of 
interest. 

His  description  of  the  fights  in  which  he  has 
taken  part,  himself,  and  the  manner  in  which  the 
Kia  Kia  warrior  goes  after  "long  pig,"  is  given 
so  naively  that  it  is  a  pity  one  cannot  repeat  it 
in  Intelligence's  inimitable  way. 

When  pig  is  scarce  and  there  has  been  no 
fresh  meat  in  the  kampong  for  a  long  time,  he 
says,  the  old  women  begin  to  whine  and  complain 
that  the  hunters  are  no  good,  and  if  they  are 
unable  to  bring  in  meat  after  a  long,  hard  hunt- 


150    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

ing-trip,  the  women  gather  in  a  clearing  and 
make  wady.  When  the  wady  is  ready  the  men 
are  called  to  the  clearing  and  each  receives  a 
small  portion,  but  not  enough  to  make  him  at 
all  hilarious.  The  younger  women  then  gather 
in  the  center  of  the  circle  of  men,  who  are  sitting 
cross-legged  around  the  edge  of  the  open  space, 
and  dance. 

At  first  the  dancing  is  done  quietly,  merely 
to  amuse  the  men,  and  some  of  the  younger  men 
beat  the  drmns  and  sing.  The  men  under  the 
stimulating  influence  of  the  wady  join  in,  sing- 
ing at  the  top  of  their  voices,  their  bodies  sway- 
ing to  and  fro  to  the  time  of  the  music.  When 
all  are  singing,  the  old  women,  who  have  been 
waiting  for  the  party  to  reach  this  stage,  bring 
from  the  houses  all  the  smoked  liuman  heads 
that  they  have  on  hand,  decorated  with  bird-of- 
paradise  feathers  for  the  occasion.  These  they 
give  to  the  youngest  and  most  comely  of  the 
dancers,  although  in  some  cases  the  old  women 
themselves  swing  into  the  moving  throng,  and, 
after  marching  up  and  down  with  measured  tread 


THE  HEAD  DANCE  151 

for  a  time,  finally  break  into  a  wild  dance,  swing- 
ing the  heads  in  their  hands. 

They  screech  and  scream  the  praises  of  their 
warrior  ancestors  and  reproach  the  men  present. 
As  the  dance  goes  on  they  grow  hysterical,  and 
it  becomes  a  frenzied  whirl  of  twisting,  contort- 
ing women,  who  swing  around  the  circle  and 
thrust  into  the  men's  faces  the  heads  they  carry, 
upbraiding  them  for  their  laziness  and  inability 
to  bring  in  meat  for  their  women.  They  again 
threaten  the  men  with  total  exclusion  from  all 
intercourse  with  themselves  and  with  promises 
and  cajolery  seek  to  rouse  them  from  their 
apathy. 

Here  and  there  in  the  circle  are  a  few  men 
who  by  their  tense  attitude  and  sparkling  eyes 
show  the  women  that  their  interest  is  awakened. 
The  women  play  up  to  these  and  by  means  of 
blood-curdling  screeches  and  much  waving  of  the 
grisly  trophies  excite  the  men  to  the  point  where 
they  leap  to  their  feet  and  join  the  dance.  Some 
of  them  take  the  heads  themselves  and  endeavor 
to  stir  in  their  fellows  a  like  spirit  of  enthusiasm. 


152    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

One  by  one  the  others  respond  to  the  appeal, 
until  all  are  dancing  in  a  twisting,  milling  mass 
of  yelling  savages.  When  this  point  is  reached 
the  old  women  bring  the  weapons  from  the  houses 
and  the  scene  becomes  one  of  the  wildest,  most 
barbaric  imaginable.  INIore  wady  is  given  the 
men,  and  they  gradually  muster  up  enough 
courage  to  take  to  the  war-path. 

This  does  not  mean  that  they  go  boldly  forth 
to  attack  their  enemies;  it  means  only  that  they 
have  decided  to  have  a  feast  the  main  attraction 
of  which  will  be  the  bodies  of  as  many  victmis  as 
they  can  collect  without  undue  risk  to  them- 
selves. The  procedure  is  to  bedeck  themselves 
in  their  finest  fashion  and  visit  a  kampong  re- 
mote from  their  own.  They  choose  one  which 
lies  on  the  far  side  of  one  or  two  others  with 
which  they  themselves  are  friendly.  When  they 
pass  through  these  kampongs  they  tell  their 
neighbors  that  they  are  going  hunting  and  in  no 
manner  hint  at  their  real  errand. 

Upon  arrival  at  the  kampong  selected  for  their 
visit,  they  stroll  in  from  the  jungle  as  though 


THE  HEAD  DANCE  153 

tired  out  from  a  not  very  successful  hunting- 
excursion  and,  being  hospitable,  their  hosts  im- 
mediately prepare  food  and  places  for  them  to 
rest.  Friendships  are  struck  up  and  two  or 
three  daj^s  are  loitered  away  while  the  lay  of  the 
land  is  being  observed.  Two  or  three  victims — 
who  live  in  shacks  remote  from  the  main  houses 
of  the  village,  as  a  rule — are  selected,  and  the 
final  plans  are  laid.  One  or  two  of  the  visiting 
tribe  strike  up  a  friendship  with  the  victims  and 
go  with  them  to  their  shacks  at  night,  ostensibly 
to  gossip  and  sleep.  A  signal  is  arranged:  the 
cry  of  a  nigbtbird  or  a  song  by  one  of  their  own 
men,  purposely  awake  and  watching  with  some 
of  his  fellows  by  the  fireside,  is  the  usual  indica- 
tion that  all  is  ready. 

When  the  silence  tells  those  on  guard  that 
their  hosts  are  all  asleep,  the  signal  is  given;  the 
visitors  who  are  feigning  sleep  rise  cautiously 
and,  with  weapon  ready,  each  suddenly  wakens 
his  intended  victim.  Ai'oused  from  a  deep  slum- 
ber, the  poor  fellow  usually  wakes  with  some  sort 
of    exclamation    or    cry.     At    the    first    word 


154    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

spoken  the  stone-bitted  war-club  descends  with 
terrible  finality  and  the  victim  lapses  into  a 
slumber  from  which  he  never  wakens.  The 
deed  is  done  quietly,  with  every  precaution  taken 
to  guard  against  the  awakening  of  the  rest  of  the 
kampong.  In  many  instances  several  small 
shacks  have  been  erected  for  the  convenience  of 
the  visitors  and  the  victims  are  lured  into  these 
to  be  murdered. 

Some  of  the  girls  of  the  place  may  take  a 
liking  to  the  visitors,  in  which  case  there  may  be 
one  or  two  men  and  a  like  number  of  girls  in  the 
shacks  of  the  strangers.  The  result  is  the  same, 
and  girls  are  highly  prized,  as  Intelligence  tells 
us  that  they  are  more  tender  than  the  men.  In 
fact,  he  says  that  there  is  no  morsel  that  equals 
the  left  shoulder-blade  of  a  ten-  or  twelve-year- 
old  girl.  Immediately  upon  kilhng  their  vic- 
tims, the  visitors  stealthily  remove  the  bodies 
from  the  kampong,  and  in  the  concealing  dark- 
ness of  the  jungle  decapitate  them.  After 
trussing  up  the  bodies  upon  bamboo  poles  for 
ease  in  carrying  them,  they  depart  in  haste  for 


THE  HEAD  DANCE  155 

their  own  kampong,  taking  a  circuitous  route  to 
avoid  other  kampongs  between  them  and  home. 

The  head  of  each  victim  is  the  property  of  him 
who  dehvered  the  fatal  blow,  and  the  murderer 
struts  into  his  family  circle  very  proud  of  his 
success.  While  the  men  were  away  the  women 
have  prepared  the  roasting-pit  for  the  bodies  that 
they  know  will  be  brought. 

The  pits  in  which  the  bodies  are  roasted  are 
dug  well  away  from  the  kampong  as  a  rule,  and 
are  filled  with  alternate  layers  of  wood  and 
stones.  By  the  time  the  wood  is  all  burned  away 
the  stones  are  intensely  hot,  and  they  are  kept 
so  with  a  great  fire  built  over  them,  until  the 
warriors  return.  After  all  ornaments  such  as 
necklaces  and  bracelets  have  been  removed,  the 
bodies  are  placed  in  the  pits  without  further 
preparation,  upon  bars  of  ironwood  or  some 
similar  hardwood  which  keep  them  from  actual 
contact  with  the  red-hot  stones,  and  covered  with 
green  palm-branches  and  a  layer  of  earth  to  ex- 
clude the  air. 

When  the  roasting  is  completed,  the  time  re- 


156   THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

quii'ed  being  dependent  upon  the  number  of 
stones  in  a  pit  and  the  age  of  the  victim,  the 
pits  are  opened  and  the  bodies  eaten.  The  choic- 
est pieces  go  to  the  men  who  have  done  the 
kilhng  and  the  rest  are  divided  equally  among 
the  remaining  inhabitants  of  the  village.  AU 
partake  of  the  feast,  from  the  youngest  infant 
able  to  masticate  solid  food  to  the  oldest  member 
of  the  tribe.  The  dogs  come  in  for  their  share 
and  as  a  rule  are  given  the  bones  to  squabble 
over,  though  occasionally  some  of  these  are  kept 
to  be  made  into  ornaments. 

Intelhgence  tells  us  that  one  hagoose  laki  laki 
(good  man)  will  satisfy  the  hunger  of  ten 
persons,  but  adds  with  a  smile  that  it  is  better  to 
have  enough  babi  panjang  (long  pig)  so  that 
one  body  need  be  divided  among  only  five  or  six. 
All  the  flesh  is  consumed  at  one  sitting  and  after 
the  feast  is  over  the  place  is  usually  cleaned  up 
and  the  pits  covered  carefully  with  earth  and 
brush  to  hide  the  evidence  of  guilt,  for  the  feast- 
ers  are  sure  that  sooner  or  later  they  will  be 
visited  by  members  of  other  kampongs  who  are 


Under  the  influence  of  tlie  wady,  exliilarutcd  by  the  wild  dance, 
the  men  finally  take  part 


MIm^i:^- 


Tlicy  a;.;. till   iIul.iIih   iln-  inni   uiili   l(il;il  (ArliiMoii  I'luiii  all  iutci"' 
course  willi   (licii'  fumiiies 


THE  HEAD  DANCE  157 

curious  to  learn  whether  or  not  they  know  any- 
thing of  the  disappearance  of  certain  people  of 
Kampong  Sangase  or  Watambi,  or  whatever  the 
name  may  be. 

With  the  coming  of  dawn  in  the  kampong  the 
hunting-party  visited,  there  is  weeping  and  wail- 
ing when  the  absence  of  the  visitors  together  with 
their  victims  is  discovered.  The  men  vow  ven- 
geance and  make  a  warlike  showing,  and  even 
venture  a  short  distance  into  the  jungle,  where 
they  gather  and  discuss  the  situation.  They  will 
remain  there  a  while  and  upon  returning  to  the 
kampong  they  will  tell  wild  tales  of  how  *hey 
chased  their  visitors  many  miles  but  could  not 
overtake  them. 

The  matter,  by  reason  of  their  cowardice  and 
utter  inability  to  bring  themselves  to  engage  in 
open  warfare,  finally  passes  into  the  limbo  of 
forgotten  things,  although  in  time  some  of  their 
bravest  may  go  on  a  round  of  a  few  kampongs 
to  see  if  anything  can  be  learned  regarding  the 
tribe  responsible  for  the  outrage.  If  they  iden- 
tify the  guilty  tribe,  they  may  lie  in  ambush  for 


158    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

some  lone  member  hunting  in  the  neighborhood 
of  his  own  kampong  and  murder  him.  This  is 
the  most  common  course  followed  in  reprisal. 
In  fact,  a  large  percentage  of  the  cannibal  feasts 
are  thus  inspired. 

Absorbed  in  the  chase  of  wild  pig  or  other 
game,  the  hunter  often  enters  the  preserves  of 
another  tribe,  and  if  he  is  discovered  he  more 
often  than  not  disappears.  It  is  for  this  reason 
that  the  men  hunt  only  when  driven  to  it  by  the 
women  or  when  game  is  plentiful  within  reason- 
able distance  of  their  own  village. 

We  ask  Intelligence  the  reason  for  waking  the 
victim  up  before  killing  him  rather  than  simply 
striking  him  while  asleep.  For  a  moment  he 
ponders,  for  putting  things  so  that  we  can  under- 
stand him  taxes  his  powers  of  narration.  He 
finally  makes  us  understand  that  the  purpose  is 
to  obtain  a  name  for  the  next  male  child  born  in 
the  hunting-party's  kampong,  for  the  first  word 
spoken  is  bestowed  on  the  infant.  Intelligence 
himself  was  named  in  that  manner,  he  tells  us. 
His  Kia  Kia  name  is  Geki.     He  promises  to 


THE  HEAD  DANCE  159 

show  us  the  skull  of  the  unfortunate  man  who 
supplied  it.  Probably  the  "namee"  falls  heir  to 
the  skull  of  the  man  responsible  for  the  christen- 
ing, though  this  is  only  conjecture  on  our  part. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  Kangaroo  Hunt 

THE  men  of  the  kampong  are  planning  a 
kangaroo  hunt  in  the  lowlands  not  far  dis- 
tant from  the  kampong.  They  say  the  hunt 
will  take  two  days  and  that  if  we  wish  to  go  with 
them  it  will  be  necessary  to  make  provision  our- 
selves for  our  food  and  shelter.  They,  of  course, 
sleep  in  rude  palm-leaf  lean-tos  and  subsist  on 
their  staple  sago  cake.  The  prospect  of  wit- 
nessing a  kangaroo  drive  fills  us  with  enthu- 
siasm, and  with  all  speed  we  prepare  to  ac- 
company them.  Early  the  next  morning  we  set 
out  with  a  light  outfit  and  enough  food  for  two 
days.  By  dint  of  much  coaxing  and  promises  of 
much  tobacco  we  have  persuaded  three  of  the 
young  men  of  the  tribe  to  carry  our  harang. 
The  way  leads  up  the  coast  for  about  ten  miles 

160 


This  man  cuiifesbcd  tu  having  calcn  many  human  ln'ings.     To  osii- 
mate  the  number  accurately  was  beyond  his  power  of  reckoning 


The  .sliari. -edged  .slniic  \v;ir  rliih  in  llir  iiaiuU  nf  such  nu-n  as  Ihcac 
uiakrs  (luici;   work  of  a   viclim 


A  KANGAROO  HUNT  161 

and  thence  into  the  jungle  through  swampy 
tangles  of  tapa  grass  to  a  point  three  miles  from 
the  ocean.  Here  we  strike  camp,  and  after  a 
hurried  meal  the  hunters  go  out  to  reconnoiter. 
There  are  kangaroos  in  the  vicinity;  in  the 
course  of  our  hike  into  the  swampy  region  we 
see  several  of  the  timid  creatm-es,  which  turn 
at  sight  of  us  and  bound  away  to  the  protection 
of  the  thickets.  They  are  a  very  small  variety 
of  kangaroo  and  not  at  all  like  the  giant  bush 
animal  of  Australia.  The  kangaroos  of  New 
Guinea  seldom  reach  a  height  of  over  three  feet 
when  standing  erect. 

About  seventy  of  the  natives  have  come  to 
participate  in  the  hunt  and  these  soon  take  to 
the  jungle,  where  they  make  their  way  silently 
to  points  which  form  a  semicircle  a  mile  in  ra- 
dius. The  center  of  this  half -circle  is  a  swamp 
where  the  water  is  a  foot  or  so  in  depth  and  the 
rushes  scarce.  It  is  to  this  place  the  natives  will 
drive  the  little  animals  when  the  hunt  begins  in 
the  morning. 

With  the  earliest  signs  of  dawn  the  men  are 


162    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

up  and  stirring.  A  hasty  breakfast  concluded, 
they  spread  out  and  start  slowly  toward  the 
swamp,  beating  the  brush  and  thickets  with  flails 
and  at  the  same  time  shouting  at  the  top  of  their 
voices.  In  this  manner  they  slowly  drive  the 
game  before  them,  though  at  first  the  jungle 
seems  to  be  deserted,  so  wary  are  the  animals. 

As  the  men  advance  and  the  circle  closes  up 
we  see  now  and  then  swift-moving  dun-colored 
objects  bounding  ahead  of  us  through  the  half- 
light  of  the  jungle.  The  men  on  the  right  and 
left  of  us  nod  their  satisfaction,  for  there  seems  to 
be  a  good-sized  herd  of  kangaroos  enclosed 
in  the  converging  human  trap.  Now  and  then 
one  of  the  animals  tries  to  break  through  the 
line,  but  it  is  almost  invariably  headed  off  and 
driven  back  into  the  thickets  ahead. 

The  men,  as  the  line  approaches  the  swamp, 
are  scarcely  six  yards  apart  and  within  this  close- 
drawn  ring  are  nearly  a  hundred  of  the  animals. 
The  ground  has  become  increasingly  marshy,  and 
soon  we  are  wading  ankle-deep  in  water.  As 
we    break    through    the    last    thicket   the    open 


A  KANGAROO  HUNT  163 

swamp  is  disclosed  to  view.  Here  an  exciting 
scene  greets  our  eyes. 

Entirely  surrounded  by  a  cordon  of  naked, 
yelling  savages  are  a  hundred  kangaroos  leaping 
and  bounding  here  and  there  in  the  swamp,  try- 
ing to  escape  the  advancing  line  of  men.  Their 
splashing  is  prodigious,  and  because  of  their  leap- 
ing this  way  and  that  there  seem  to  be  many 
more  of  them  than  there  really  are.  Their 
frightened  little  cries  appeal  to  our  sympathies 
and  we  di'op  out  of  the  line,  not  caring  to  engage 
in  the  coming  slaughter. 

The  Kia  Kias  soon  get  within  striking-dis- 
tance and  in  a  very  short  time  the  excitement 
is  over.  Many  of  the  animals  escape,  much  to 
to  our  satisfaction,  but  when  the  toll  of  the  hunt 
is  taken  there  are  sixty  of  them  stretched  out  on 
a  strip  of  dry  ground  which  caps  a  low  rise  beside 
the  swamp.  The  natives  are  wild  with  joy  at 
their  success,  for  they  tell  us  that  in  their  last 
drive  they  succeeded  in  catching  only  twelve 
animals. 

Grasping  the   kangaroos   by  their  powerful 


164   THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

hind  legs  and  carrying  them  dangUng  down  their 
backs  from  the  shoulders,  the  natives  set  out  on 
the  return  to  the  kampong.  Unaccustomed  to 
the  bearing  of  burdens,  they  stop  for  rest 
frequently  and  it  is  late  in  the  afternoon  when 
we  enter  the  kampong.  Here  the  women  greet 
us  with  great  joy,  for  their  stomachs  will  be  full 
for  a  long  time  to  come.  While  immediate  prep- 
arations are  made  for  roasting  some  of  the 
animals,  the  men  prepare  to  cure  the  remainder 
by  drying  and  smoking  them. 

Strangely  enough,  there  is  no  attempt  to  save 
or  cure  the  skins,  and  when  we  question  the  sav- 
ages regarding  this,  they  shake  their  heads. 
They  have  no  use  for  them,  they  say,  and  let  it 
go  at  that.  Wearing  no  clothes,  they  do  not 
require  the  skins  for  bodily  covering  and  the  only 
use  they  have  for  leather  is  for  covering  the 
heads  of  their  drums,  for  which  purpose  they  in- 
variably use  pigskin.  A  few  of  the  women  save 
narrow  strips  of  the  hide,  from  which  they 
will  make  the  seed-decorated  bandoleers  that 
some  of  them  affect,  but  this  is  the  only  use  to 


A  KANGAROO  HUNT  165 

which  they  seem  to  put  the  skin  of  the  kangaroo. 
Yet,  properly  tanned,  it  would  make  admirable 
leather,  for  it  is  as  soft  as  kid. 

The  dogs  make  short  work  of  the  many  skins, 
eating  them  hair  and  all  and  disgorging  the 
balled-up  hair  later.  The  men  save  some  of  the 
leg  bones,  from  which  they  make  nose  orna- 
ments, but  in  the  main  the  dogs  get  these  also. 
It  is  surprising  how  the  dogs  fatten  up  after  one 
of  these  feasts.  Between  feasts  one  can  count 
every  rib  and  the  poor  creatures  are  so  gaunt 
that  it  would  seem  an  act  of  mercy  to  put  them 
out  of  their  misery.  Nature  never  intended 
dogs  to  exist  on  a  diet  consisting  mainly  of  cocoa- 
nut.  After  a  feast,  however,  the  dogs  drag 
themselves  around  with  stomachs  bulging.  In  a 
few  days,  and  until  the  bones  and  meat  are  quite 
gone,  their  hair  is  sleek  and  shiny  and  in  contrast 
to  their  former  appearance  they  are  positively 
fat. 

The  men  and  women  gorge  themselves  exactly 
as  the  dogs  do,  with  the  result  that  there  is  little 
activity  in  the  kampong  until  the  meat  is  entirely 


166   THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

consumed.  They  then  fall  back  on  their  staple 
diet  until  such  time  as  the  women  can  prevail 
upon  the  men  to  go  on  another  excursion. 

The  natives  generously  offer  us  two  of  the 
kangaroos  to  vary  our  diet  of  tinned  goods,  but 
the  little  animals  seem  so  much  like  things  to  be 
petted  rather  than  eaten  that  we  thank  our  hosts 
warmly  and  tell  them  that,  inasmuch  as  we  have 
plenty  of  our  own  kind  of  food  and  they  have  so 
little,  we  could  not  think  of  taking  their  meat 
from  them.  The  excuse  passes  muster  with 
them  and  they  do  not  press  the  matter,  much  to 
our  satisfaction ;  for  at  times  it  becomes  awkward 
to  explain  certain  things  which  to  us  are  a 
matter  of  course. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

The  Bird  of  Paradise 

SHORTLY  after  the  kangaroo  hunt  there 
come  to  the  kampong  two  Chinese,  with 
a  party  of  Moresby  boys,  who  are  making 
their  way  to  the  coast  and  Merauke,  where  they 
can  dispose  of  the  skins  of  the  birds  of  paradise 
they  have  taken.  The  Chinese  are  of  the  typical 
trader  class  and  appear  prosperous,  for  their 
watch-chains  are  very  heavy  and  of  pure  gold, — 
not  the  red  gold  we  know,  but  the  twenty-two- 
karat  metal  of  the  Orient. 

Their  advent  causes  a  stir  in  the  kampong,  for 
the  moment  the  dogs  give  warning  of  the 
approach  of  strangers  the  natives  all  dive  into 
the  shacks,  to  peer  furtively  through  the  crevices 
until  assured  the  visitors  mean  them  no  harm. 
The  Chinese  enter  the  kampong  boldly  and,  espy- 
ing our  camp,  come  to  greet  us  immediately ;  and 

167 


168   THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

as  the  Chinaman  is  always  hail  fellow  well  met, 
we  invite  the  men  in  and  give  them  a  cup  of  tea. 
]Moh  is  most  happy  to  serve  them  and  beams 
upon  them  as  he  passes  the  tea. 

They  seem  much  surprised  to  find  two  white 
men  here  and  question  us  regarding  the  purpose 
of  our  visit,  thinking  at  first,  doubtless,  that  we 
are  on  the  same  errand  as  they.  They  cannot 
comprehend  how  we  two  Americans  can  find  rec- 
reation and  amusement  in  coming  to  this  God- 
forsaken spot,  putting  up  with  untold  hardship 
and  inconvenience  merely  to  meet  and  study  the 
lives  of  the  Kia  Kia  savages.  The  Chinese  is 
first,  last,  and  always  a  business  man  and  bends 
all  his  energies  toward  succeeding  in  his  business. 
The  Moresby  boys  immediately  take  up  their 
abode  with  Ula  and  the  crew  of  the  Nautilus^ 
who  are  camped  near  the  kampong,  and  we  make 
the  Chinese  comfortable  in  a  spare  tent,  where 
they  spread  their  mats  and  prepare  to  stay  a  day 
or  two  to  rest. 

They  have  been  successful  in  their  hunting  and 
have  nearly  sixty  codies,  or  twelve  hundred  of 


THE  BIRD  OF  PARADISE      169 

the  skins,  though  they  have  been  in  the  interior 
only  since  last  May.  The  skins,  well  preserved  in 
arsenic,  are  done  up  in  parcels.  There  is  a  small 
fortune  in  the  proceeds  of  their  season's  hunting 
and  they  are  most  happy  at  their  success,  though 
they  of  course  do  not  boast  of  it.  It  is  not  the 
Chinaman's  way  to  wax  exuberant  over  any- 
thing. Win  or  lose,  his  face  never  changes 
expression. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  our  visitors  tell 
us  in  perfect  Malay — they  speak  only  a  word  or 
two  of  English — of  the  manner  of  hunting  their 
beautiful  quarry.  The  habits  of  the  birds  are 
most  interesting.  They  also  tell  us  something 
which  is  news  to  us.  We  had  supposed  that  the 
restrictions  placed  upon  the  importation  of  the 
skins  into  America  were  due  to  the  possibility  of 
the  species  becoming  extinct,  but  the  hunters  tell 
us  that  this  is  not  the  case.  They  say  that  only 
the  male  birds  in  full  plumage  are  taken  and  that 
the  bird  never  attains  his  fullest  plumage  until 
after  the  second  bird-mating  season.  This  being 
the  case,  it  would  seem  that  there  is  no  danger  of 


170    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

extinction,  and  the  Chinese  seemed  to  think  that 
the  ruling  was  unjust. 

The  method  of  hunting  the  birds  is  odd  and 
requires  much  patience.  When  the  locality  they 
frequent  is  located,  search  is  made  for  the  danc- 
inff-tree.  This  is  usually  an  immense  bare- 
limbed  tree  that  towers  above  the  surrounding 
jungle.  When  such  a  tree  is  found  it  is  watched 
for  several  mornings  to  see  if  the  birds  come  to  it, 
and  if  this  is  the  case,  a  blind  is  constructed  well 
up  in  its  branches  where  the  hunters  can  hide 
from  the  sight  of  the  birds  but  are  within  easy 
bow-shot  of  them.  Two  bowmen  will  ascend  to 
thi^  masking  shelter,  two  or  three  hours  before 
dawn,  and  lie  in  wait  for  the  birds  that  they  know 
will  come  with  the  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun. 

The  trees  surrounding  the  large  one  fill  with 
female  birds,  come  to  witness  the  dancing  of  the 
males  who  strut  and  dance  on  the  bare  branches 
of  the  large  tree.  The  hunters  lie  in  wait  in 
their  blind  until  the  tree  is  literally  filled  with 
the  gorgeous  male  birds. 

The  birds  become  so  engrossed  in  their  strut- 


THE  BIRD  OF  PARADISE       171 

ting  and  vain  showing-off  to  the  females  that  the 
hunters  are  able  to  shoot  them  down  one  by  one 
with  the  blunt  arrows  used  for  this  purpose. 
The  large  round  ends  of  the  arrows  merely  stun 
the  birds,  which  fall  to  the  ground  and  are  picked 
up  by  men  below. 

Frequently  the  hunters  are  able  to  kill  two 
thirds  of  the  birds  before  the  others  take  alarm 
and  fly  away.  The  skins,  as  they  are  gathered, 
are  washed  in  arsenic  soap  and  packed  away  in 
bundles  of  twenty.  The  washing  shrinks  a  skin 
so  that  the  true  proportions  of  the  bird  are  lost: 
the  head  is  large  in  relation  to  the  rest  of 
the  body,  but  with  the  removal  of  the  skull  it 
shrinks  to  such  an  extent  that  it  seems  to  be 
exceedingly  small. 

The  skin  is  taken  for  the  gorgeous  plumes 
which  spring  from  the  side  of  the  bird  and  are 
seen  on  the  live  bird  only  when  he  is  strutting  or 
in  flight.  It  is  a  matter  of  interest  that  the  nests 
of  the  birds,  and  consequently  their  eggs,  are 
never  found,  and  large  prices  have  been  offered 
for  a   specimen  of  each.     Among  the  hunters 


172    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

there  seems  to  be  a  general  belief  that  only  one 
bird  is  reared  at  a  time,  though  this  is  only  con- 
jecture. 

On  the  morrow  the  hunters  gather  some  surf- 
fish  as  a  welcome  change  in  their  diet  and,  after 
smoking  these  a  little  and  drying  them  after  the 
Chinese  fashion,  depart  on  the  last  long  leg  of 
their  trip  to  INIerauke.  We  tell  them  in  response 
to  their  invitation  to  accompany  them  that  we 
are  quite  content  here  and  will  await  the  coming 
of  the  next  trading  JNIalay  who  happens  along. 
The  trip  through  the  jungle  with  our  multitudi- 
nous effects  offers  no  inducements  to  us. 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  Coming  of  the  Burong  Mas 

KAMPONG  days  melt  into  one  another 
with  such  indolent  smoothness  that  the 
weeks  slide  into  months  without  tally.  Were  it 
not  for  the  calendar  that  hangs  on  the  wall 
of  the  tent  our  count  of  them  would  be  entirely 
lost.  The  simple  routine  life  of  the  natives  of 
the  kampong,  except  for  the  diversions  we  have 
seen,  becomes  monotonous  and  boredom  grips 
us. 

It  is  a  week  since  our  yellow  brethren  left  us 
with  much  ado  and  genial  wishes  for  our  welfare. 
They  are  well  on  their  way  by  this  time.  Some 
of  our  own  boys  from  the  Nautilus  accompanied 
them,  for  they  had  through  some  misdeeds  be- 
come persona  non  grata  with  our  hosts.  On  the 
beach  there  is  a  hea\y  surf  rolling,  for  some 
distant  storm  at  sea  has  raised  a  great  swell,  and 

173 


174    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

dozens  of  ]Medus£e  and  other  ocean  polyps  have 
been  thrown  up  by  the  waves,  to  die  in  the  fierce 
rays  of  the  sun. 

While  we  are  walking  along  beside  the  thun- 
dering surf  inspecting  these, — a  sort  of  natural- 
history  lesson  for  want  of  more  engrossing  oc- 
cupation,— a  glance  seaward  gives  us  a  thrill. 
Far  out  upon  the  horizon,  almost  hull  down,  is 
a  schooner.  It  seems  to  be  headed  in  our  direc- 
tion. She  is  the  first  sign  of  life  we  have  seen 
at  sea  since  our  arrival  here,  and  our  minds  are 
instantly  filled  with  conjecture  as  to  her  destina- 
tion.    "Will  she  touch  here?"  we  ask  each  other. 

We  hasten  back  to  the  kampong  to  tell  the 
natives  of  the  schooner  and  also  to  see  if  they 
know  anything  about  her.  She  may  be,  we 
think,  a  boat  that  customarily  touches  at  this 
place  to  trade.  Upon  seeing  the  schooner,  which 
is  momentarily  drawing  nearer,  the  natives 
chatter  excitedly,  finally  making  us  understand 
that  she  will  not  come  here,  but  will  undoubtedly 
touch  at  a  kampong  farther  up  the  coast  where 
much  copra  or  dried  cocoaimt  meat,  purchased 


COMING  OF  THE  BURONG  MAS   175 

from  the  natives  with  trade  tobacco,  will  be  taken 
on.  The  schooner  is  tacking  and,  even  as  we 
watch,  takes  a  slant  across  the  wind.  The  other 
kampong  is  fifteen  miles  to  the  westward.  If 
we  can  get  there  in  time  to  intercept  the  schooner 
before  she  has  taken  on  her  cargo  and  left,  there 
is  a  good  chance  that  we  can  get  back  to  Merauke 
on  her  and  catch  the  steamer  to  Java. 

A  steamer  is  due  to  leave  Merauke  for  civiliza- 
tion in  four  days,  according  to  our  calendar. 
There  is  no  time  to  lose.  Instantly  we  make  up 
our  minds  to  take  that  schooner  back.  This  will 
necessitate  our  packing  up  our  equipment  imme- 
diately and  transporting  it  fifteen  miles  in  the 
broiling  heat  of  midday,  plowing  through  the 
soft  beach  sand.  It  is  a  large  order  to  undertake 
in  the  tropics.  When  we  tell  the  natives  of  our 
decision  they  shake  their  heads  gravely  and  say 
it  cannot  be  done. 

However,  we  strike  camp  in  a  jiffy  and  soon 
have  our  equipment  snugly  done  up  in  thirty- 
and  forty-pound  bundles.  The  next  problem 
is  to  secure  the  assistance  of  the  natives,  for  with- 


176    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

out  their  aid  the  trip  will  be  impossible.  At 
first  they  are  most  unwilling  to  accompany  us, 
but  when  we  tell  them  that  thev  are  sroina: 
whether  they  like  it  or  not,  and  make  a  show  of 
becoming  nastj^  they  decide  not  to  arouse  our 
anger  and  gather  round  to  load  the  bundles  on 
their  backs.  Each  tries  to  select  the  lightest  of 
the  bundles,  and  there  ensues  a  gi'eat  squabble 
among  them.  There  are  nearly  sixty  pieces  of 
barang  to  be  carried,  and  of  course  this  requires 
a  like  number  of  men.  We  settle  the  squabble 
by  telhng  all  the  men  to  take  their  bundles  to  a 
clear  place  on  the  sand  and  lay  them  down. 
When  they  have  done  this,  we  line  them  up  and 
pick  out  the  strongest-looking  of  them  to  carry 
the  heavier  pieces,  so  that  the  weaker  and  the 
very  old  ones  will  not  be  overburdened.  It  is 
not  alone  a  sense  of  justice  that  prompts  us  in 
this,  though,  for  were  we  to  overload  the  weaker 
ones  they  would  lag  behind  the  rest  and  thus 
delay  our  march. 

Before  going  we  distribute  part  of  our  remain- 
ing tobacco  among  the  women,  who  have  come 


COMING  OF  THE  BURONG  MAS   177 

to  like  us  and  appear  sad  over  our  sudden  leave- 
taking.  The  rest  we  will  give  to  our  carriers 
when  they  leave  us  at  the  other  kampong.  With 
one  of  us  white  men  in  the  lead  to  set  the  pace 
and  the  other  bringing  up  the  rear  to  spur  on 
the  laggards,  we  hasten  away  at  a  pace  that  soon 
starts  the  perspiration  in  streams.  ]Moh  walks 
along  in  the  middle  of  the  procession,  happier 
than  he  has  been  since  leaving  Java.  He  has 
visions  of  his  lady-love  in  Soerabaya  greeting 
him  with  outstretched  arms.  He  feels  sure  of 
her  fidelity;  for  does  she  not  know  that  he  is 
well  paid  by  the  Tuans,  and  that  his  pockets  will 
be  well  lined  with  guilders? 

The  remaining  crew  of  the  Nautilus  also  come 
with  us,  and  are  rather  useful,  for  they  proudly 
tote  our  guns.  They,  too,  are  happy,  as  they 
are  anxious  to  return  to  their  homes.  Abreast 
of  us  is  the  schooner,  still  tacking  up  the  coast. 
It  seems  at  first  as  though  she  were  slowly  crawl- 
ing ahead  of  us,  but  as  the  hours  drag  on  we 
see  that  we  are  holding  our  own,  and  we  even 
stop  once  for  refreshment  and  to  rest  the  weary 


178    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

natives,  who  are  beginning  to  show  signs  of  play- 
ing out.     Some  of  them  stagger  a  little  as  they 
come  to  a  halt  where  we  are  piling  the  barang. 
After  the  period  of  rest  is  over  they  shoulder 
their  burdens  and  the  long  file  is  again  under 
way.     The  sky  becomes  overcast  when  we  are 
on  the  last  four-mile  stretch  and  still  an  hour 
from  our  destination.     We  welcome  the  cloudi- 
ness, for  the  heat  has  been  terrific.     With  the 
clouds  comes  a  rain-storm  which  soaks  us  to  the 
skin,  but  which  washes  off  the  perspiration  and 
is  gratefully  cooling.     Once  our  spirits  fall  as  we 
near  the  kampong.     The  schooner  tacks  again, 
which  seems  to  indicate  that  she  is  going  out  to 
sea  and  does  not  intend  touching  at  the  place  at 
all.     There  is  excited  comment  from  the  natives 
at  this  and  we  indulge  in  a  little  soul-satisfying 
invective,   until   we   see   that   the   manopuver   is 
simply  to  enable  the  boat  to  pass  a  mud-bar  over 
which   the  tide  is  breaking.     As  the  schooner 
swerves  and  heads  directly  for  the  village,  we 
cheer  loudly  and  urge  the  lagging  Kia  Kias  to 


COMING  OF  THE  BURONG  MAS    179 

greater  speed,  that  we  may  arrive  at  the  place 
ahead  of  her  dinghy. 

We  just  make  it,  for  the  men  drop  their 
burdens  as  the  crew  of  the  schooner  land  through 
the  surf.  We  go  forward  to  meet  the  skipper 
of  the  craft  and  find  him  to  be  a  Chinese  who 
greets  us  affably.  To  our  inquiry  if  he  intends 
returning  to  Merauke  he  replies  that  he  will  after 
loading  on  five  piculs  of  copra.  We  tell  him 
that  we  wish  to  return  with  him  and  he  looks 
at  our  pile  of  barang  and  shakes  his  head.  After 
a  little  mental  calculation  he  says  that  he  cannot 
accommodate  us  unless  we  wish  to  leave  some  of 
our  belongings  for  a  later  trip.  At  this  we  firmly 
shake  our  heads,  and  we  finally  strike  a  bargain 
by  chartering  his  whole  schooner  for  ourselves. 
The  copra  he  leaves  for  a  later  trip. 

We  tell  him  that  we  must  be  in  Merauke  in 
time  to  catch  the  steamer  for  Java.  Again  he 
shakes  his  head  and  with  a  glance  at  the  sky 
says,  "Angin  tida  biak  [The  wind  is  not  good.]" 
While  this  conversation  has  been  under  way,  our 


180    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

bearers  have  cast  themselves  wearily  down  upon 
the  sand,  and  as  the  natives  of  the  kampong  drift 
down  to  the  beach  they  rise  and  try  to  slink  away 
to  the  village,  where  they  can  hide  from  further 
work.  jNIoh  calls  our  attention  to  this  just  in 
time,  and  we  order  them  back  to  their  burdens. 
The  schooner  is  lying  about  three  hundred  yards 
from  the  high-tide  mark  and  with  the  receding 
tide  is  canting  slowly  on  her  side.  She  is 
aground  in  the  mud  of  the  river  mouth. 

The  best  way  to  load  her  with  our  barang  is 
to  have  the  men  wade  out  and  put  the  stuff 
directly  on  her.  This  they  do  after  some  remon- 
strance, and  then  our  work  is  over.  Tired  out 
from  the  long  hike  in  the  heat,  we  go  aboard 
immediately  and  change  to  dry,  clean  clothes 
while  IMoh  prepares  our  dinner.  Tlie  Kia  Kias 
receive  the  remaining  tobacco,  five  packages  each, 
with  cries  of  glad  surprise,  and  it  touches  us  to 
hear  them  singing  to  us  while,  tired  as  they  are, 
they  dance  farewell  to  us  up  and  down  the  beach. 
With  all  their  faults,  they  have  hearts  and  can 


COMING  OF  THE  BURONG  MAS    181 

come  truly  to  like  one  who  treats  them  with 
consideration  and  kindliness. 

High  tide  is  at  eleven,  the  skipper  tells  us, 
and  we  must  of  necessity  wait  for  it.  The  crew 
are  all  on  shore,  visiting  in  the  kampong,  from 
which  there  drifts  to  us  the  sound  of  merry- 
making. A  thump  now  and  then  warns  us  of 
the  incoming  tide,  and  soon  the  schooner's  decks 
begin  to  level  up  as  she  straightens  to  an  even 
keel.  At  half-past  ten  o'clock  the  skipper  comes 
aboard  with  the  crew  and  preparations  are  made 
for  getting  under  way.  The  skipper  is  a  jolly 
fellow  with  a  rotund  countenance  beaming  with 
good  nature  mixed  with  shrewdness  that  speaks 
of  his  business  ability.  He  has  driven  a  hard 
bargain  with  us  for  the  charter,  he  thinks,  but 
could  he  but  know  it,  we  would  have  paid  him 
double  without  rancor.  In  fact,  we  offer  a  prize 
or  bonus  for  himself  and  the  crew  if  they  land 
us  in  Merauke  in  time  to  catch  our  steamer. 

The  kampong  is  in  utter  darkness  when  we 
finally   weigh   anchor   and   glide   out   from   the 


182    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

shadow  of  the  point  beneath  which  it  nestles. 
Only  the  mournful  howling  of  a  dog  bids  us 
farewell,  for  the  natives  have  all  turned  in. 
There  is  a  fair  breeze,  and  with  low  contented 
murmurings  the  wavelets  lap  the  cutwater  of 
the  schooner. 

Morning  dawns  on  a  glassy  sea.  There  is 
not  a  breath  of  air  stirring.  The  sails  hang 
motionless.  The  hours  speed  by  with  no  change 
in  the  motion  of  the  schooner.  As  the  situation 
begins  to  get  on  our  nerves  and  we  contemplate  a 
two-months'  stretch  in  INIerauke,  we  anxiously 
question  the  skipper  as  to  the  probability  of 
the  calm  enduring.  He  gives  us  little  hope 
and  we  descend  to  the  depths  of  gloom.  The 
crew  are  gathered  up  forward  around  the  typi- 
cal sheet-iron  fireplace,  cooking  rice  and  fish. 
When  they  have  finished  their  meal  one  of  them 
worms  his  way  below  and  emerges  later  with  a 
large  gong.  He  is  about  to  call  the  attention 
of  the  wind  spirits  to  our  plight  and  beseech 
them  to  favor  us  so  that  the  bonus  can  be 
collected.     He  beats  the  gong  briskly  and  chants 


COMING  OF  THE  BURONG  MAS    183 

an  invocation  in  Malay,  while  the  rest  of  the 
crew  add  their  prayers  to  his.  We  look  upon 
the  proceeding  with  cynical  indifference,  but, 
much  to  our  surprise,  even  while  the  men  are  still 
chanting  and  the  gong  booming,  a  cool  breath 
fans  our  faces  and  the  sail  above  us  bellies  out 
tentatively.  At  this  the  crew  redouble  their 
efforts  and  soon  a  spanking  breeze  is  sending  us 
slithering  through  the  surges  in  fine  style. 

The  crew  look  at  us  with  great  pride  in  their 
gods,  and  an  expression  of,  "Your  gods  cannot 
do  that."  It  is  a  coincidence,  we  tell  ourselves, 
but  underlying  our  skepticism  is  a  lurking  won- 
der if  after  all  there  is  not  something  in  their 
faith.  Only  once  on  the  voyage  to  Merauke 
does  the  breeze  lessen.  As  the  sails  flap  in  the 
falling  breeze,  the  gong  and  the  chant  are 
again  brought  to  the  fore,  with  instant  results. 
The  thing  is  a  little  uncanny  and  the  skipper 
assures  us  that  when  they  are  beset  with  danger, 
in  a  storm,  they  call  to  the  spirits  in  the  same  way 
and  always  with  the  desired  results. 

At  noon  of  the  second  day  out  we  espy  ahead 


184    THE  ISLE  OF  VANISHING  MEN 

the  great  red  buoy  that  marks  the  channel  within 
the  river  of  INIerauke.  As  we  turn  the  point 
to  enter  the  broad  river  a  welcome  sight  greets 
us.  Our  steamer  is  just  coming  abreast  of  the 
town,  having  arrived  a  few  hours  ahead  of  time. 
To-night  we  shall  sleep  in  a  snow-white  state- 
room,— between  clean  sheets. 


THE  END 


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